Thoughts of a student...

Wow, just wow!

2009-12-22T14:05:45Z

Oh wow. It's been almost 5 months to the day since I've posted anything other than pictures or stories. 5 months! And alot has gone on in that 5 months. Considering I was going to try and post regularly... I think I've failed in that respect.

Ok, so where to start...

Firstly, I failed, again. I failed every subject I took this year. It shits me, but at the same time I don't really care too much. Law isn't what I want to do anymore. It's taken me a long time to admit that, even to myself, but this last few months, I've admitted it, not only to myself, but to family, and friends as well. As much as I have always harboured the idea of goinbg to work in a nice power suit, arguing big cases in front of judges, and being respected, I just cannot imagine myself sitting in front of a computer day in day out. I would be bored.

So, after all this soul searching, and a few other things, I have enrolled in the Masters of Personal Training, at the Australian Institute of Fitness in Sydney. This is where I want to go. This is the direction I want my life to go in. I want to be able to help people. From the time I sat in my very first psychology lecture almost 5 years ago, I've wanted to help people. So I'm going to use my personal trainers qualification, with my psychology major and help people.

I have changed degrees and will finish my B Arts this next year. I will have a major in psychology and law, and I will be able to pick up the law degree, with credits for what I've already done, later if I want to. My degree has not gone to waste. And I wouldn't give up the uni experiences, or the friends I made there, for anything. Although...

I was planning on moving to Sydney at the end of the year. Way, way, way before I decided what I was going to do with my degree. I have always wanted to move to Sydney. It's the biggest city in the country, and it's my capital city. It's a beautiful city, and I've always loved it. I'm a country girl, born and raised in country NSW, with only sporadic visits to the city, but I fell in love with it. Even the shitty traffic. When I made it to uni, and made friends, we decided that we would go to the College of Law, in Sydney. Then when I met my last boyfriend, he was from South Sydney. He took me home one set of holidays in my first year, and took me to his parents place in Grays Point. I fell even further in love with the city, and especially in love with the Sutherland Shire. When we broke up (mutually) 2 and a half years later, I was still going ot move down there. Cassie and I were still going to go to Law School there.

So, even after all the drama of this year, with me failing and everything, Cassie and I still spent the year discussing ideas for moving to Sydney. Where we would want to live, transport, costs, what we had and what we needed to buy. Then, about a month ago, she tells me that one of the girls from Austin (who I don't know) was interested in moving in with us. *Note the us. So we organised to go down. Cassie and I were supposed to be staying with James, but that changed so I was staying with James for the first few nights while the girls stayed with Neil, then they would come and stay with James and I. I had imagined a fun filled 6 days, singing along to road tripping songs, maybe a night out, dinner together, etc. DIDN'T HAPPEN! NOT IN THE SLIGHTEST!!!

We were supposed to leave on the Wednesday, but that suddenly didn't suit Dianne, so they changed it to Thursday. Which meant that I could have worked when they callled on Wednesday morning. Then Thursday rolled around. I ran around like a chook with my head cut off making sure that I had everything, my car was filled, I was organised. Made sure James knew to leave me a set of keys because he was working the night shift and we'd be there after he left for work. They were 3.5, nearly 4 hours late getting to my place and they blamed road works. Now I know that there are road works on the Pacific Highway. But 3.5 hours worth!!!

So then I suggested that we all just stay at James' place that night. He had an extra double bed the other girls could sleep in and I'd crash in his bed seeing as he was on night shift. No, Neil was waiting for them. I'm sure he would've understood that we wouldn't get there until midnight nor after, but they wouldn't even consider it. So we detoure via Neil's place to drop the girls off and I made it to James' place a little after midnight. So from day 1 I was pissed.

Day 2 involved a slight sleep in then a drive to North Sydney. The girls had organised to have a look around up there, because Cassie wanted to live close to St Leonards. So we drove around North Sydney. Cassie had a tom tom but rather than stick it to my windshield so I could see it, she hung onto it and just told me when to turn. I got incredibly burnt on my right side because Dianne kept winding the back window down and I wasn't going to waste petrol on the air conditioner when she had the window down. We went via Cronulla but the girls weren't interested in what I had to show them so I dropped them back at Neil's. No offer of 'do you want to come in?'

Saturday was inspection day. The girls had booked inspections 15 minutes apart. In different suburbs. On a Saturday morning. We missed about 3 of 6 or 7. Some of that was apparently my fault. Like when the tom tom told me to stay in the left lane, and then take the right exit. Not going to happen so we ended up over the bridge. Then when we went through the Lane Cove tunnel, and I wasn't supposed to. Apparently I wasn't using my common sense. Well, I'm too busy watching the traffic to calculate how far ahead 150m is. I'm sorry if I'm in the right lane because the tom tom told me to be in it, but I didn't need to be in if for another 100m. I couldn't tell that. James' flatmate has previously lived in North Sydney, and he gave me some ideas to consider for where we could live if we didn't find anything we liked on Saturday. When I told them to the girls, they just when 'yeah whatever' and that was that. They didn't even consider them!!!!

Then everything I said was wrong. I was asked if we knew anyone in Sydney, I mentioned that I have an ex in Cronulla. Apparently the wrong thing to do. According to Cassie. Now, she told me this on Monday, after I'd been saying things like this all weekend. She could have mentioned it earlier in the weekend!!!! And my needing to work just seemed like an inconvenience to them. Well, if I don't pay rent, we'll be kicked out. SO I NEED A JOB PEOPLE!!! I CAN'T PULL MONEY OUT OF THIN AIR!!!

So, by the end of it I was pissed. I felt like a chauffer. All I did was drive around after them. My opinions were never asked for, and everything I did wrong was picked up on. Then I was pushed for a decision on whether I was moving in with them the next day. They could have applied for 3 bedders with me, and then 2 bedders with just them 2 if they had of wanted to! It's not hard!!! Basically I told them to go jump.

So I went from the one organising everything, to the one who has no house, and no housemates. But, I'm over that now. I am on Gumtrees and have had a few offers from people looking for housemates, to come and meet them. All of them right on the beach.

It's probably bad karma, but I kinda wish things don't fall so into place for them next year. Only because I feel so cheated right now. I could write so much more on this issue, but there's no point in rehashing it. It only makes me mad.

So... moving on...

I have found a new awesome friend. Morag is from Sydney (ironically) and she's 'new' (I say this because she's the newest, she's probably been there 3-4 months now). We get along great. She's 23, and sarcastic just like me. She's alot of fun. We seem to have alot of the same tastes in things, and the same values and morals. She's a great bitching buddy and lets me rant when I need to.

We're planning a road trip to Melbourne from Sydney next year.

I wish she was moving back to Sydney then we'd get a place together.

So, I went and saw Avatar today [with Morag :)] What an amazing movie. The special effects were mind blowing, but the story behind it... it really makes you think. If you don't come out of that movie contemplating this world and what we're doing to it, you've missed the whole point to it. It's just an incredible, mind blowing, amazingly heartfelt, journey, and it just blows you away. I want to see it again, and it's only been 6 hours. Sam Worthington, you deserve every acolade you get for this movie.

Morag is teaching me to be selfish. Being an older sister, I try to take into account other people, and what would be easier for them, what would work for them. This year I have just been trampled on, and run over, again and again, by work, and by supposed friends, becuase they just don't care. But no more! 2010 will be about me! It will be about what works for me, and what suits me., No more changing mmy schedule to suit others. If it doesn't work for me, then either they change it so it does, or it doesn't happen. Clearly there will be a limit to this, but 2010 will be my year of saying NO!

2010 will be the year I discover myself. It will be the year I learn about me. I will be away from family and friends, starting a new chapter of my life, with new people and a new career direction. 2010 will be MY YEAR!!!

I have the travel bug again. I've been searching for more working holidays. I have been contemplating what I could do, where, when and how much money it would cost me. I can't wait.

So much more to day, but bed time. Must go to work tomorrow

Night xo

Picking Up The Pieces Chapter 4/13, NC17, Dean, Sam, Bobby, Missouri

2009-12-14T10:44:32Z

TITLE: Picking Up The Pieces
RATING: NC-17
WORD COUNT: This chapter: 3907, Whole Story: 28890
CHARACTERS: Dean, Sam, Bobby, Missouri, OC's
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them, only playing with them
SUMMARY: Sam thought they were ok, that finding Dean would fix everything. He was wrong. It was just the beginning.
A/N: Sequal to Retribution and Breaking Points. Will need to read that to understand this.
A/N 2: Completed story. Will try and post 2x week.

Sam woke up groggily, feeling like, even though he'd slept for a solid 8 hours, he'd not slept for a month. He cautiously cracked open an eye to see Dean standing over Bobby. Bobby was asleep in the chair between the 2 beds, his duty as watchman obviously over. Sam nearly had a heart attack when he recognised Bobby's knife in Dean's right hand. Slowly, and carefully Sam slid out of bed. “Dean?” he questioned in a quiet voice, the one for talking to spooked animals and scared children. Thankfully Dean turned to him. “It's ok, he's not going to hurt you Dean, he's a friend. It's ok, you can put the knife down.” Sam carefully reached out for the loosely held knife, pleased when Dean didn't try a do-over of last night's impromptu sparring match. Sam wasn't sure he was ready to handle another one of those. He was also pleased to see a little spark back in Dean's eyes. There was still no recognition there, no fire, but a light that wasn't there the previous night when Dean was a walking, breathing, fighting robot.
Sam gently grabbed his siblings arm, careful of the bruises, cuts and burns hidden under all the bandages. He maneuvered his co-operative, if somewhat reluctant, older brother into the small bathroom of their motel room, too engrossed in what he was doing to notice Bobby crack an eye open to see what was going on.
Sam sat Dean down on the closed toilet lid. “Dean, do you need to use the bathroom?” When Dean didn't answer or meet his eyes Sam grabbed him by the chin, making Dean look at him. He didn't expect Dean's reaction to just that one little action. Dean nearly jumped out of his skin, his eyes darting all over the place, 'searching for a way out' Sam thought miserably. It wasn't until Sam let go of Dean's jaw did he get a look at the scratches on Dean's cheek, obviously put there by some long, sharp nails. 'That bloody witch, I'd kill her if she wasn't already dead for what she's done to Dean' Sam thought angrily.
“It's ok Dean,” Sam soothed. “It's ok, it's just Sam. No-one's going to hurt you here, I promise.” Once the wild look left Dean's eyes Sam tried again. “Dean do you need to use the bathroom?” Dean mutely shook his head. “Ok, well lets get you cleaned up again shall we. We'll just do a repeat of what we did last night. Do you remember?” Sam held his breath as Dean appeared to think, then nodded his head. “Is that ok?” Sam really didn't want to push his brother. He knew that if Dean felt like he was losing control, things were going to get out of hand.
Sam turned towards the bath, running luke warm water into the tub. He heard Dean moving behind him and he turned his head to see Dean grab the first aid kit off the bathroom sink and open it. Sam couldn't help the small, relieved smile that crossed his lips. Maybe, just maybe they could get through this.
********
Dean woke to see a strange man sleeping in the chair settled between the 2 beds in the room. A quick glance at the other bed, where he could hear a soft snore, showed him that the man who got him out of that horrible place was still there. 'He hasn't left me' Dean thought to himself. “But I can't let the stranger hurt the man who saved me.' In the back of his mind he kept hearing the word 'Sam' but it made no sense to the hunter, who was now lost inside his own little word. His sharp eyes spotted the pale sunshine coming through the thin motel curtains glinting off something the strange man had in his hand. 'A knife' Dean thought. He reacted instinctively, regardless of the wounds he could feel pulling as he moved. The only thought in Dean's head was 'I have to protect the man who saved my life. He's the only one who's been good to me.' Careful, so as not to wake the sleeping man, Dean picked up the knife and held it loosely in his right hand as he looked, really looked, at the man in front of him. Some part of his brain was screaming at him that he knew this strange man, but the irrational part, the part that was currently running the show, screamed at him that this man was dangerous, that he could hurt him and the man who'd saved his life. Sam the back of his brain yelled at him to no avail.
He heard the stirring of the kind man in the bed and heard him call Dean. He couldn't help but turn his head and he thought he saw a tired smile ghost over the face of the younger man, Sam. The expression soon changed to one of slight fear when the man realised that Dean still had a knife in his hand.
“It's ok, he's not going to hurt you Dean, he's a friend. It's ok, you can put the knife down.” The man, Sam, coaxed quietly whilst reaching for the knife. Dean trusted the open, honest look the younger man, Sam, was wearing on his face, and he let the knife be taken without any fight. He was led, gently, to the bathroom when he was sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. He thought he heard the man, Sam, say something to him, but he wasn't paying attention, to consumed on the man in the other room.
Suddenly the man, Sam, grabbed his chin, although not forcefully. The action, however, led Dean back down into the recesses of his mind, back to that fateful first day when his torture began.
Dean couldn't help but flinch when the man's Sam's, fingers came into contact with the broken, raw, tender skin on Dean's cheeks where the woman's nails had ripped away layers of his skin. The man, Sam, seemed to get the message though, because he immediately let go of Dean's jaw, a flash of guilt playing on his young face.
“It's ok Dean,” the man, Sam, soothed. “It's ok, it's just Sam. No-one's going to hurt you here, I promise.” Dean calmed down slowly and the man, Sam, tried, once again to ask his question. Dean thought for a second then shook his head. “Ok, well lets get you cleaned up again shall we. We'll just do a repeat of what we did last night. Do you remember?” Dean thought back for a moment before nodding his head. He remembered the man, Sam, and why wont that voice in his head go away!, helping him. Cleaning out his wounds, bringing his temperature down, bandaging him up, and just generally taking care of him. Dean nodded his head, rethinking that action when his headache reminded him that it was still there.
The man, Sam, and if he couldn't get that voice in his head to stop he may just stop it permanently!, turned to the bath and started running water into the tub. Dean could see the bag that the man, Sam, 'Oh I give up', had used last night. Dean knew that whatever he needed was in that bag, so he gingerly reached out with his left hand and snagged the bag off the sink. He had just unzipped it when the man, Sam, turned around. The man, Sam, gave him a soft smile that Dean couldn't help but feel relieved at.
********
Sam smiled a little as Dean let him help him clean up. He heard noises from the main room as he washed Dean's hair, careful to stop the soap suds from washing into the gashes in his brother's back. He knew that Bobby was up. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, and having the older hunter there was just making it worse. He could hear Bobby's soft voice, and Sam assumed he was talking on his cell. What about, Sam was a little apprehensive about.
********
Bobby heard Sam talking softly to Dean in the bathroom. He quietly got up from the chair and pulled his cell from his pocket when Sam closed the bathroom door. He quickly dialed the number for a friend. “Ryan?” he asked as soon as the call was picked up. “I need a favour. Where are you?” He nodded his head as he listened to the reply coming from the other man. “Ok good. Can you get to Echo soon? Like, within the next hour?” Bobby nodded his head again, a small smile crossing his face. “Thanks. It's a big job Ryan. And ah, it's someone you know. It's Dean... Dean Winchester.” He paused again as a string of curses came across the line so loud he had to pull the cell away from his ear to protect his hearing. “He's stopped talking, he's barely responding to anyone. I think he's locking himself away again... I know what you said before and, as much as I hate to admit it, I think you might be right this time. He's even stopped responding to Sam and that never happened before... Thanks Ryan, see you soon.”
Bobby had no sooner closed his cell than Sam stepped out of the bathroom doorway. “Who was that?” Sam asked as he moved away from the door, settling Dean on the bed. As he pulled the towel away from Dean's upper body, giving Bobby his first look at the damage inflicted on the younger hunter. Bobby felt his breath leave him for a second before Sam turned Dean around and started applying creams and bandages to Dean's wounds. “Bobby?” Sam asked again when Bobby didn't answer his question.
Bobby was shaken out of his stupor. “It was an old friend.” That was all the information Bobby felt like giving. Sam just stared at him, but instead of using the patented Sam Winchester puppy dogs eyes, he just glared at the older hunter until he caved. “It was Ryan Samson.”
Sam quirked an eyebrow at the name. It sounded familiar but he couldn't place it. Bobby sighed. “He's an old friend of mine. He...” Bobby wasn't sure how to say it. 'He was the man who helped your brother after your mother died.” Bobby finally spat out. “I thought that maybe he could take a look at Dean, maybe help him a bit.”
Sam took a look at Dean who was watching the conversation from the bed, his eyes hooded from the Tylenol and the antibiotics Bobby had bought them that were working their way through his bloodstream. Sam wasn't sure what to think. He didn't like the idea of bringing in a stranger, but if the guy had helped Dean before... “Can he help Dean? I mean, he did it before right?” Sam asked.
Bobby sighed and took his cap off before running a hand through his hair and replacing the cap. “Not exactly son. Your dad left with you guys before Ryan really got to talk to Dean, but this time, with your dad gone and everything...”
“It might be the only way to help him.” Sam finished the older hunter's sentence. “Does he... does he know about us, about what we are, what we do?” Bobby nodded his head. “Ok, so we'll let him talk to Dean and then see where we go from there right?” Sam cocked his head quizzically at the older hunter. “Right Bobby?”
“Yeah Sam, whatever you say.”
Sam couldn't help but think that the older hunter was hiding something from him, and after the last time he ignored his gut and got Dean into this state, he wasn't going to ignore it again. He let the matter drop from the conversation, but he wasn't about to forget about it. Something about the way Bobby said his dad left before Ryan could really talk to Dean was stuck in his head and he just had to figure out why.
********
Ryan Samson showed up at the motel room door exactly 47 minutes after he'd hung up the phone from Bobby Singer. He had absolutely no idea what he was walking into. All his psychology training pretty much flew out the window as far as hunters were concerned. And the Winchester family... they were a different story all together. Ryan remembered a young, vulnerable, mute, 4 year old Dean, and hoped that this time he'd be able to get the boy the help he needed. Ryan was sure that Dean had seen his mother burn on the ceiling that fateful night, but he was never sure, never had any proof. He wondered what was in store for him this time. Hopefully without John there, it might be easier to give Dean the help he so desperately needs.
********
Bobby opened the door when he heard Ryan's familiar, unique knock on the old wooden door. Sam wasn't sure what he was expecting, but a man dressed in good slacks, a button up shirt, a suit jacket, and carrying both a briefcase and medical bag was not it. The man looked to be in his 50's or 60's, his hair and slight beard graying, and looked very professional. Sam was instantly hit with a wave of distrust and dislike of the man, but Bobby never noticed, too engrossed in welcoming the stranger into the room. Bobby led Ryan over towards the bed and Dean, but Sam was quickly in the way, an effective roadblock between the stranger and Dean. He immediately understood Dean's protective instincts at that moment.
“Sam Winchester,” he said, sticking his hand out.
Ryan was taken back. The man in front of him was John Winchester reincarnated. He very quickly reevaluated his chances with Dean at the sudden realisation that Sam may be a more formidable adversary than John ever was.
“Ryan Samson,” he said, shaking the young man's hand. He glanced around Sam to the figure laying on the bed. Dean had the sheets and comforter pulled up to his chin, his green eyes glassy, and full of fear, reminding Ryan so much of the 4 year old that it hurt. Wary of Sam, Ryan moved and sat on the bed next to Dean. Dean automatically moved away, and Ryan was amazed to see that, when Sam went to the other side of the bed, Dean moved towards him, away from Ryan.
“Hi Dean, I'm Ryan.” he said as he pulled out a pen and paper from his briefcase, before closing the lid and setting the briefcase on the other bed.
“It's ok Dean, he's a friend. He's here to help you.” Bobby said. Ryan noticed that Dean only glared at Bobby, then looked at Sam.
Sam nodded his head. “It's ok Dean. He's not going to hurt you. I wont let him.” The last part said in a way that Ryan knew he'd have to tread very carefully.
“Dean, I just want to ask you some questions ok?” Dean looked at him, but never moved. Ryan sighed, it was probably the best he was going to get. “Dean, do you remember what happened in the church?” A nod of his head. “Do you remember who did it to you?” Another nod. “Did she hurt you?” Dean didn't answer, not even a movement of muscle. “Dean? This is very important, I need to know what she did to you so I can try to help you get better. And for me to help you, you need to talk to me. You need to tell me what happened. You need to help me help you ok.”
Dean just closed his eyes, pulled his left arm protectively over his ribs, protecting both the ribs and the burn on his arm, and then promptly rolled over, his back to Ryan. Ryan knew that Dean was retreating into his head. As a child, Dean did the same thing. When he couldn't deal with his mother's death he hid away from the world, protecting himself.
He looked at Bobby, a question in his eyes, when Sam's stomach rumbled, emphatically reminding himself that he hadn't really eaten since Dean went missing. He glanced at Dean, once again asleep on the bed. Bobby saw the glance. “It's ok son, go and grab something to eat, take-out if you want. We'll watch over him. I promise.”
Sam glanced at the sleeping figure again before walking over to the small table and picking up the keys. “Do you guys want anything?”
“Just grab us a burger or something Sam.” Bobby said, watching as Sam nodded his head, opened the motel room door, and walked through it.
Bobby waited until he heard the Impala start up, and pull out of the motel parking lot before he asked. “What do you think?”
Ryan ran a hand through his graying beard. “It's definitely post-traumatic stress disorder, and with what he went through that doesn't surprise me in the slightest. But, I think it may also be depression. The sleeping, whilst could be put down to the healing process, is too easily turned on and off to be healing sleep. He's doing it to hide from the world, from what he doesn't want to face, and that's a classic sign of depression. The fact that he's locked himself away from everyone, including Sam, makes me think that he needs help Bobby. Serious help.”
Both men were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn't hear the impala pull back into the lot, or Sam open the door.
********
Sam pulled into the parking lot with 3 take-out bags of burgers and fries, a tray of drinks sitting on the seat beside him. With a deep breath he opened the door, closing it quietly. He silently opened the door to the room, just in time to hear Ryan say that Dean needs serious help and Bobby nod in agreement.
Sam saw red. He quietly closed the door and walked back over to the impala, sitting the bags of food and tray of drinks on the roof of the Impala. He unlocked the driver's side door, then made a big commotion slamming the door, and juggling the bags and tray. He saw Bobby open the door, coming over to give the younger hunter a hand. Sam gave Bobby a completely insincere smile of thanks as the older hunter took a bag and the tray of drinks, before they headed back inside. Dean was still curled up on his side, but his eyes were open. However, Sam realised that they'd lost the spark they had in them this morning. His brother was a machine again. Cautiously Sam approached the bed, a burger and some fries in his outstretched hand. Dean seemed to think for a minute before reaching out a hand to take the food and sitting up in the bed to eat. All three men were relieved that Dean was at least eating. Sam realised that neither of the other men noticed that the man sitting on the bed was no longer Dean, but someone who would easily kill them in their sleep.
A few hours later, Ryan decided that he needed to stay at least the night to see how Dean was doing, so he and Bobby booked into another room. Sam tried very very hard to hide his elation when they came back and said that their room was on the other side of the motel.
********
Sam's continual yawning was making the two older men tired, so when Bobby suggested they head to their own room and turn in for the night, Ryan was more than happy to comply, confident that Sam could look after Dean. As they reached the door of their room Ryan's cell rang. Bobby unlocked the door while Ryan had a rushed conversation, his phone closing as soon as they were in the room, the door closed and locked.
“I can get Dean into a facility in Washington State tomorrow.” Ryan said as he sat down at the table opposite Bobby.
“Sam's not going to agree with it.” Bobby said, unlacing his boots and pulling them off.
“I'm not asking Sam.” Ryan bit out. “Dean needs help Bobby, and he needs it now. Sam can't give it to him, he'll only make Dean worse. Dean needs to be somewhere he can be looked after not some crummy backwater motel room.”
Bobby sighed but knew the other man was right. “I can get Sam out of the room tomorrow long enough for you to get Dean out of here and far enough away that Sam wont know where you are.”
Ryan nodded as he crawled under the covers of his bed, the hunter doing the same. “Thanks Bobby. Dean needs this, not his brother.” he said as he shut off the light. Neither of the men noticed the faint shadow outside the window.
********
Sam was grateful when, as midnight came around, the 2 older men turned in for the night, trusting Sam to take care of his brother. What they didn't see as they sat down at the table in their own room, on the other side of the motel from Sam and Dean's room, was Sam following them.
The men made no effort to speak softly, Sam's yawning over the past few hours convincing them that he would be in bed asleep. Neither one thought that he would be outside their slightly open window, the light that would normally have illuminated his silhouette to the men inside having been broken by kids a few days prior. He heard everything they said, and after a few minutes, had made up his mind on what his next move was.
Quietly, Sam packed up everything in the room and packed it in the Impala. Then he carefully woke Dean, pleased when it was coherent Dean, and not homicidal Dean. Sam put his fingers up to his mouth in the universal sign for quiet and Dean nodded his head. Sam helped his injured sibling get dressed and into the car, covering Dean with his leather jacket, stealing a few of the flat, crappy motel pillows and tucking them in around Dean to make him as comfortable as he could. Then he raced over to the reception, handing in the key.
He cursed a little as the Impala's engine roared to life, praying it wouldn't wake Bobby and Ryan, and pulled out of the parking lot, heading east, trying to get as far away from Oregon and Washington as he could. He couldn't help the small smile that graced his lips as Dean put his hand out to lovingly touch the dash, his head minutely bopping in time to the Metallica coming from the speakers. Sam knew that no facility could get Dean back. It was the open road, the Impala, Dean's music and Sam that would get Dean back. It was really all Dean ever knew, and it was what was going to bring Sam's brother back to him.

Picking Up The Pieces Chapter 3/13, NC17, Dean, Sam, Bobby, Missouri

2009-12-14T09:46:42Z

TITLE: Picking Up The Pieces
RATING: NC-17
WORD COUNT: This chapter: 1823, Whole Story: 28890
CHARACTERS: Dean, Sam, Bobby, Missouri, OC's
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them, only playing with them
SUMMARY: Sam thought they were ok, that finding Dean would fix everything. He was wrong. It was just the beginning.
A/N: Sequal to Retribution and Breaking Points. Will need to read that to understand this.
A/N 2: Completed story. Will try and post 2x week.

Dean was sitting in that basement again, his wrists and ankles chained to the wall behind him. He could see her coming towards him, that dreaded cat 'o nine tails held loosely in her hand. She looked so small, almost delicate, but Dean could see her for what she really was, a torturer with a cast iron stomach. Someone that didn't want to kill him outright even though she so badly wished for his death. She was content to torture him slowly. His death at her hands was sure to be slow, and bloody, and horribly painful.
Suddenly she morphed into his mother, her white nightgown flapping in the slight breeze that made it's way to them through the slight cracks in the basement. She walked towards him, venom spilling from her lips in the form of hurtful words her oldest son never wanted to hear. Words that he'd often thought himself, but never thought he'd hear from his parents, especially his mother, his guiding light in all the darkness that was his life. As she sprouted words like worthless, pathetic and mistake in his direction, her nightgown caught fire and he was forced to see his mother burn, just like he had that fateful night that changed the course of his life forever.
As she burned, she morphed again, this time into Jessica. Seeing the love of his brother's life burning in front of him, sprouting words of hate, he tried to curl in on himself but the shackles wouldn't let him move, forcing him to watch, as another woman in the Winchester's lives burned.
Suddenly she was Sam. Sam didn't burn, Instead his hazel eyes held that fire, the fury that Dean had taken him away from Jess, pulled him back into the world of hunting, pulled him away from his 'normal' life. Then Sam started sprouting hurtful words just as his mother did. Telling him he was useless, that Sam would have been better off without Dean in his life, that he didn't need his brother. That Dean was just a dog who followed their father's every word.
Then Sam changed, becoming John, a fire running through his booming voice as he told his oldest son that he didn't need him. He told Dean that he wasn't needed if he couldn't do his job properly. That in his entire life he'd never seen anyone lose focus on their job the was Dean had, always running after girls, too focused on his car, and his sex life to worry about taking care of his little brother. John ran over and over the times Dean had slipped up, that times that Sam had been hurt or almost killed. Turned every little bruise or scratch that Sam had ever gotten, into the worst catastrophe that had ever happened.
Dean thought he heard Sam's voice in the background telling him that everything was going to be ok, that he was safe, but Dean was too lost in his own thoughts, the nightmares he couldn't escape that he didn't take any notice.
********
Dean stirred in the blackness that told his unfocused mind that it was the dead of night, that time when it wasn't yet the new day, but not the one just left behind either. He searched the room with his eyes, never moving a muscle, not wanting to alert his captor that he was awake again. He didn't want the torture today, he couldn't handle it. His body couldn't handle it, and his broken mind wouldn't be able to take it.
He carefully slid his hand under the pillow, that's strange, when did I get a pillow?, and pulled out the razor sharp hunting knife hidden there. So, she left him a weapon did she? Stupid idiot, he could kill her with his bare hands, but a knife was better, less work on his part. More energy for him to get himself out of here. He carefully and gingerly pulled himself from the bed, careful not to make any noise and slowly made his was over to the curtained window, pulling back the curtain to reveal a shiny black car. I can hotwire that thing he thought to himself as he released the curtain. Quietly he made his was to where he could hear soft noises coming from the kitchen. He didn't see Sophia in there. Instead, leaning over the counter was a man. Dean had no hesitation, he needed to get out, and he couldn't leave anyone to go telling the boss what had happened. On silent feet he maneuvered himself until he was standing directly behind the man, then put the tip of his knife at his back. He instantly felt the man go still.
The man slowly raised his arms in a gesture that was generally thought to be a submissive one. Dean wasn't fooled. “Dean? Dean you're safe. I'm not going to hurt you.” Ha,Dean thought to himself, I may be dumb, but I'm not that stupid.
“Dean, I'm going to turn around now.” the man said as he slowly turned around, never actually moving from his spot. The man searched his face for something, and Dean thought he saw heartbreak in the man's eyes when he didn't find it. She hired someone who can actually act for once, Dean thought. Dean thought he looked familiar, but couldn't place the man's face. All the goons look the same after a while, all muscle no brain. This is going to be a piece of cake.
The man moved faster than Dean could anticipate, tearing the knife from Dean's hands and throwing it across the room. Dean didn't wait to see where it landed, using the man's slightly off balance stance to knee him in the stomach, but was disappointed when the man didn't double over, instead blocking Dean's follow up knee that should have been aimed at the man's face. The man took a step towards Dean and Dean reacted instinctively, stepping backwards to stay out of reach of the goons long arms. Dean winced as he bent backwards to avoid the punch aimed directly at his face, but before he could recover, he felt his feet kicked out form under him, forcing the wind out of him when he landed hard on the floor, a slight hiss of pain escaping through his clenched jaw. He recovered quickly but not fast enough to avoid the kick that was landed to his chest, forcing him to the ground again, his head hitting the floor, his world being overtaken by the darkness yet again.
********
Sam found himself startled awake at the pounding on the door. He quickly grabbed Dean's Bowie knife from under his pillow, waring with himself about whether he should have packed up his pistol with the rest of the weapons, or kept it for his own protection, even though Dean could kill himself, or Sam, with it.
Cautiously Sam peeked through the peep hole in the door, letting out a relieved sigh when he saw Bobby standing there. He opened the door, grateful to the older hunter for being there in record time. The minute Bobby saw Sam, he couldn't help but pull the boy in for a hug. Sam looked so lost, and the second he got his first glimpse at Dean he understood why.
Dean was a white as a ghost, except for the horrific mottled mass of colour that was his face, and what he could see of his torso and arms, the bruises and cuts, standing out like a sore thumb.
“Oh god Sam, this is worse than I thought.” Bobby said as he sat down in the seat Sam vacated when he answered the door. Sam handed the older hunter a beer, even though it was barely light outside, that Bobby gratefully accepted. “Tell me everything.” Sam sat down on the bed, his gaze on Dean. And so, with a sigh that sounded like it should be coming from a man at least 40 years older, Sam recounted the last week, from when the brothers drove into town, to when Bobby banged on their motel room door.
Bobby took his hat off his head, running a hand through his hair, before returning the cap to his head. “Jesus boy, I don't think we can deal with this on our own.”
“I don't know what to do Bobby.” Sam sounded close to tears. “He wont talk, he wont look at me, unless he's trying to kill me, he doesn't even seem to know who he is. I just, I'm not sure how to bring him out of this.”
“I know kid, I know. But Dean stopped talking after your mom, maybe it's just his way of dealing with things.”
“I know he stopped talking after mom, and he does tend to get a bit quiet if something's bothering him, but Bobby, he's always interacted with someone, even when he wont talk. But now,” Sam clenched his hands into fists to try and stop the shaking that was slowly making it's way through his body, “Now he's not even noticing where he is or what's going on, or even that I'm here.”

Bobby wasn't too sure what to do, and Sam was right. He'd never seen Dean catatonic. Even when the boy was 4 and had just seen his mother burn to death on the ceiling of his baby brother's room, the boy had interacted with his surroundings. At the very least with Sam. If Dean wasn't interacting with Sam, they were in more trouble than he thought.
“Sam, did you burn the witch?”
Sam slowly raised his head, barely looking Bobby in the eyes through his tangle of unruly chestnut bangs. He slowly shook his head. Bobby could see that the boy was at the end of his rope, his exhaustion finally overtaking any adrenalin he had left in his system.
Bobby got up off his chair and gently pushed the youngest Winchester back so he was lying on the bed. “But Bobby, I need to watch Dean, make sure he's ok, make sure his temperature hasn't gone up, make sure there's no infection.” Sam said around a yawn that threatened to to unhinge his jaw.
“It's ok Sam, I'll watch over Dean. I'll make sure he's ok, I've done it before Sam, you can trust me.”
Bobby watched as Sam sleepily nodded his head, then succumbed to the healing sleep he so desperately needed. Bobby ran a hand through the thick stubble on his face as he watched the two men in the beds in front of him. The men he'd seen grow up from boys, the ones he loved like his own sons. He knew that they needed to get Dean back or he'd lose Sam as well. He just didn't know how he was gonna do it.

Picking Up The Pieces Chapter 2/13, NC17, Dean, Sam, Bobby, Missouri

2009-12-07T09:49:49Z

TITLE: Picking Up The Pieces
RATING: NC-17
WORD COUNT: This chapter: 1242, Whole Story: 28890
CHARACTERS: Dean, Sam, Bobby, Missouri, OC's
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them, only playing with them
SUMMARY: Sam thought they were ok, that finding Dean would fix everything. He was wrong. It was just the beginning.
A/N: Sequal to Retribution and Breaking Points. Will need to read that to understand this.
A/N 2: Completed story. Will try and post 2x week.

Sam woke to the sound of whimpering coming from the lone occupied bed. Cursing himself for falling asleep when he'd promised to look after Dean, Sam sat up in the chair and sat his now sleeping laptop on the other bed. “Dean, it's ok. It's ok.” Sam desperately wanted to touch his brother in an attempt to reassure him, but wasn't sure where he could touch that wouldn't cause his brother more pain. He managed to get Dean awake enough to take another dose of tylenol before laying his now destroyed, almost unrecognisable sibling, back on his side, to limit the pain from the wounds on his back and stomach. Sam ran a hand through his hair as he walked into the kitchenette and turned on the coffee maker, making a mental note to search the first aid kit, and the Impala's trunk if he had to, for the stronger pain killers he knew they had somewhere. After searching for his brother for 4 days, running on no sleep, and a lot of adrenaline, only to get back a broken, shell sof his brother, Sam was almost at the end of his rope. He had never really understood his brother, but Sam was getting a better, inside look at his life. He never realised, until he left for his own life at Stanford, just how much he relied on Dean. The same Dean he had been so angry at as a teenager for always being around, and never picking sides. What Sam would give for one of Dean's smart-ass comments, ot cocky smirk. Or even for one of his “I'm the big brother so I'm always right” lines.
Sam stilled as he heard movement from the other room. He relaxed slightly when he heard nothing else, but as soon as he did he felt the cold, sharp, steel of Dean's beloved, ever present Bowie knife. Damn it, why hadn't he put the weapons away when Bobby told him to? On the positive, it wasn't a gun.
Sam slowly raised his hands. “Dean? Dean you're safe. I'm not going to hurt you.” He prayed that Dean was the more coherent Dean who had let him take him from the church, rather then the almost catatonic Dean that had silently allowed Sam to administer some, albeit basic, first aid. If Dean was running purely on instinct and sense memory, then Sam was toast. Sam may have 3-4 inches and 20+ pounds of muscle over his brother, but Sam knew that Dean had the winning edge. Dean was lithe, fast and accurate and that equaled power. Dean took to fighting, particularly the hand to hand, like a duck to water. He was always deceptively graceful, and Sam had never had the talent Dean naturally had.
“Dean, I'm going to turn around now.” Sam said as he slowly, and carefully came to face his sibling. What he saw broke what was left of his heart. Dean was completely absent. There was no spark in the man who stood before him. The man who stood, with a knife so sharp it could split hairs, over Sam's heart, was the shell of a man Sam knew. This man was running on instinct and muscle memory. Sam knew that he had to play this right if he had a hope of surviving the next few minutes. Dean could kill him a hundred times over with just his bare hands, not to mention the arsenal hidden around the room.
Sam moved, with lightening speed that comes from years of training, grabbing the knife from Dean's hand and throwing it across the room so hard it embedded itself to the hilt, into the wall. Thankfully the wall backed onto the bathroom and not an adjoining room. Sam had just released the knife when Dean retaliated with a knee to Sam's stomach. Sam managed to fight the urge to double over and blocked Dean's follow up knee that would have been aimed at Sam's face. Sam took a step towards Dean, forcing him backwards, giving Sam more room to maneuver. Noticing Dean was slightly off balance, his stance backwards to normal, Sam threw a punch that Dean easily deflected. Sam saw Dean wince as he leaned backwards to avoid the punch and Sam took the opportunity to kick Dean's feet out from underneath him. Dean hit the floor hard, but recovered quickly. However Sam's recovery was faster and Dean had just regained his footing when Sam hit him with a roundhouse kick to his chest that sent Dean back to the floor, hitting his head and rendering him unconscious. Sam was immediately hit with a wave of guilt he had to push down to deal with later. You only hit him with half the power you normally use. His brain reasoned with him. Gently Sam lifted Dean from the floor and laid him down on the bed. Carefully he checked Dean's wounds, grateful their little impromptu sparring match hadn't reopened any, then covered him with the comforter.
As he put all the weapons in the duffel and threw the duffel back into the trunk of the Impala, he couldn't help but wish the witch was still alive just so he could kill her again. As he shut the room door, he noticed the knife still sticking out from the wall. Grudgingly he pulled the knife from the wall and shoved it under his own pillow. He sat back on the chair next to the bed and restarted his laptop. Sam glanced at the unconscious form of his brother and realised at that moment just how much his brother did, and how much Sam relied on it. He realised how much he relied on Dean's knowledge of what to do in any given situation, and just how much Sam had taken it for granted. He hadn't noticed before how much better he felt when he had Dean talking him through situations, even things like Sam patching him up. As Sam opened the web browser, he realised what he would give for Dean to talk him through it this time, for him to tell him what to do.
Sam felt tears roll down his cheeks as he glanced at the form on the bed again. Dean hadn't said anything. Throughout the whole fight, Dean hadn't said a word, not even let a whimper of pain slip from his lips. Sam vaguely recalled whispered conversations from his childhood about how Dean wouldn't talk for months after the fire that killed their mother. He remembered more clearly, the quick conversation Dean had had with Lucas, when he had stopped talking after his father's death. The only problem was that Sam was the reason Dean started talking again when he was 4. But this time, Dean wasn't even acknowledging Sam's presence, let alone talking to him. He wished his dad was here to help, and that wasn't a though he had very often.
Sam tipped his head back and looked skyward. He prayed to a God he wasn't sure he believed in, to let them get through this. He sighed as he dropped his head forward again and looked at the screen on his laptop. So much information, and he wasn't really sure what to do with it. He prayed that Bobby would be there soon and he'd know what to do. Sam wasn't too sure he could cope with this by himself.

Picking Up The Pieces Chapter 1/13, NC17, Dean, Sam, Bobby, Missouri

2009-12-02T01:37:57Z

TITLE: Picking Up The Pieces
RATING: NC-17
WORD COUNT: This chapter: 2261, Whole Story: 28890
CHARACTERS: Dean, Sam, Bobby, Missouri, OC's
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them, only playing with them
SUMMARY: Sam thought they were ok, that finding Dean would fix everything. He was wrong. It was just the beginning.
A/N: Sequal to Retribution and Breaking Points. Will need to read that to understand this.
A/N 2: Completed story. Will try and post 2x week.

Thanks Birdie for the awesome banner :)

Sam killed the comforting sound of the engine as he pulled up outside their motel room. He glanced at his brother in the passenger’s seat and he felt his heart break a little more. Dean was asleep, had fallen there quickly after Sam had gotten him into the car and started up the engine, the familiar sound soon lulling the older brother into sleep, although one that was plagued with bad dreams. Dean was curled up into himself, pressed up against the door, and Sam could just imagine how much pain that must be causing his sibling. Dean’s face was flushed with fever, his hair damp with sweat, and chills racked his body from time to time. He looked entirely too fragile to be the man Sam had always looked up to and tried to emulate.

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his too long bangs. He was stuck with what to do next. He knew that Dean needed a hospital. He also knew, realistically, that taking Dean to a hospital would be a mistake. It would be an unmitigated disaster. Not only would Sam be questioned about Dean’s physical state, but also his mental state; and Sam knew that once any decent psychologist got a look at Dean in his current state, they would have him admitted. Sam would never get his brother back. So Sam was stuck with Winchester Medicine 101. Again. Sam cursed their lives yet again. It wasn’t fair. Normal people could just go to a hospital, without the fear of police prosecution for something that they didn’t even do. But, realistically, how to you explain to the average police officer that the thing that was murdering people was a shapeshifter, and it just happened to be in Dean’s form when it was cornered the first time; and then again when Dean killed it. You really can’t just say that to someone without ending up drugged to the eyeballs, in a padded room for the rest of your life. And that is no place for a hunter. Sam had accepted that this was his life. He was a hunter, and, as much as he tried to deny it as a young man, Sam knew that, deep down, like his brother, this was his life. It didn’t stop him, in situations like these, cursing his father’s crusade. The one that had set them on the path to the life that they lived. The life that involved hustling pool and poker, credit card scams, and life threatening situations that called for emergency medical attention whilst being treated with field medicine in whatever passed for home that week.

Sam leaned over and gently placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean whimpered at the touch and tried to pull away, but he had backed himself into a corner. “Dean? Come on man, open your eyes. It’s ok, you’re safe.” Sam tried. Slowly Dean opened his eyes. He looked at Sam with trepidation, until some slight recognition kicked into his muddled brain. He relaxed a little as he forced his way to full consciousness. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” Sam said and he opened the driver’s side door. He quickly got out of the car, closed the door and made his way over to the passenger’s side. He opened the door and Dean nearly tumbled right out as he was still leaning on it. Sam was glad for his quick reflexes as he grabbed his shaky and disorientated sibling, one arm around his waist, the other on his shoulder, and kept Dean from face planting on the asphalt. “Easy man, I gotcha, it’s ok.” Sam murmured as he crouched down and looked Dean in the eye. Dean looked like a caught animal. “Come on man, let’s get you cleaned up.” He gently helped Dean from the car, noticing how Dean swayed as he stood upright. Sam closed the door, and with an arm around his sibling’s waist to keep him upright, Sam steered them both towards the room. He unlocked the door, pushing it open, and kept going until Dean was sitting, albeit swaying slightly, on the bed furthest from the door.

Sam kicked the room door shut on his way to the bathroom. He quickly splashed some cool water on his face before starting to run cool water into the bath. He then strode into the room. Dean was sitting in exactly the same spot and for that Sam was grateful. He grabbed the first aid kit from the duffle bag and then crouched in front of Dean.

“Dean?” Dean lifted his head, the green gaze that meet Sam’s hazel one was full of fear. “We need to get you cleaned up, and look after your injuries. Do you trust me to do that?” Sam didn’t want to push Dean into doing anything he didn’t want to do. He needed Dean to trust him if he had any chance of getting back the brother he knew. Dean slowly nodded his head. “Ok, well what do you say we go into the bathroom and get you cleaned up and then you can sleep for a while.” Sam had noticed Dean’s eyelids drooping and knew that sleeping would help the fever too. Dean nodded his head again and held out a hand for Sam to take and help him up. Sam gently pulled Dean into a semi standing position, and they hobbled slowly into the bathroom.

The bathroom was slightly steaming as Sam gently sat Dean on the closed lid of the toilet and then turned off the water filling the bath. He knew that, by the time Dean was stripped of his pants and his cuts and burns were cleaned, the bath water would have cooled down enough for Dean to get in.

Carefully, in sight of Dean’s cautiously trusting gaze, Sam opened the first aid kit and pulled out bandages, holy water, antibiotic cream, burn cream, butterfly clips, peroxide, Tylenol, and some cloths and anything else he thought he might need. He carefully peeled his shirt off Dean’s shoulders, wincing slightly when the material pulled free of a few cuts and tears in Dean’s skin where the blood had dried and stuck the material to the skin. Luckily not too many started to bleed. Sam was faced with his next dilemma. Where to start the clean-up process? Dean’s back had been ripped to shreds from the cat o’ nine tails, not to mention the few deliberate cuts across and down his back and the few burns. His chest and stomach seemed to have taken the brunt of the beatings, with numerous cuts, bruises, and burns, and a few that ran down onto his forearms. Sam took a deep breath and tried to focus. He could see that Dean’s ribs appeared to be, at the very least, cracked, and at the very worst, broken.

Sam decided to start with Dean’s back. He knelt down in front of Dean, putting two fingers under Dean’s chin, forcing him to look at him. “Dean, I’m going to clean the wounds on your back. It might hurt, but it’s going to be a lot worse if I don’t ok?” Dean just nodded sadly and twisted on the toilet to allow Sam access to his back. Sam soaked one of the cloths in holy water and gently set about cleaning the wounds. It wouldn’t have surprised him if the witch had used something magical on his brother, but was silently relieved with the wounds didn’t smoke. He then grabbed the cloth soaked in peroxide and gently wiped his brother’s back with it, careful to avoid the few burns that were there. He gently cleaned the burns with a damp cloth, thankful that they looked to be starting to heal, and he wasn’t in any real danger of destroying anymore of his brother’s skin. Finally, when that was done, Sam gently grasped Dean’s shoulders and swivelled him around so he was facing Sam and Sam could start to work on cleaning his brother’s chest and stomach. He repeated the process on Dean’s torso, careful of the numerous burns, and the cracked ribs. He was worried about the bruising on Dean’s chest, and the slight wheeze that he could hear coming from Dean each time he inhaled. He had seen the blood that Dean had hacked up in the basement of the church, and he knew that his brother had punctured a lung. Sam gently cleaned his brother’s arms, and then helped him stand. It was strange to be taking care of Dean like this, usually it was Sam in the receiving end of the first aid.

He quickly pulled Dean’s boots, socks, and jeans down, leaving Dean clad only in his boxers, and then tested the bath water. It was now luke warm, and Sam helped Dean get into the bath. He grabbed the wash cloth and ran it over Dean’s chest, neck, face, and his arms and shoulders, in an attempt to get Dean’s fever lower. He grabbed the thermometer from the kit and coaxed Dean into letting him stick it in his ear. He closed his eyes and prayed that it wouldn’t be too high while he waited for the beep. When it beeped, Sam looked at it, and he let out the breath he was holding. 102.3. High, but not as high as he was expecting, and he could work with that. As long as it didn’t get any higher. He noticed that Dean had stopped shivering. Dean closed his eyes and let his head rest back against the edge of the tub as Sam continued to run the cool washcloth over his body. After what felt like hours, but was really only 30 minutes, Sam rechecked Dean’s temperature. 101.2. That was better.

“Dean?” Dean slowly opened his eyes and turned his head to meet Sam’s worried gaze. “You need to get out of the bath, and we’ll get you dried off, bandage your arms and back and ribs, and get you dressed. Then you can sleep, how does that sound?” Dean just tiredly nodded his head and helped Sam get him out of the bath. Sam quickly wrapped a towel around his sibling’s frame and led him into the room. He gently rubbed him dry and handed him a clean pair of boxers. He turned to the first aid kit he’d grabbed from the bathroom as Dean changed into the clean underwear, and once he was done, Sam settled him on the side of the bed. He gave Dean a couple of Tylenol to help reduce his fever, and help with the numerous aches and pains he would have to have. Then he made quick work of liberally coating Dean’s injuries in antiseptic and burn cream, and the bandaging them. He was unsure about wrapping Dean’s ribs, but had noticed that Dean hadn’t coughed up anymore blood. He wrapped them securely, but not too tight, and then helped Dean get under the covers. He noticed that Dean quickly rolled onto his left side, protecting his right set of ribs, his left arm cradled against his stomach as a means of protecting it.

“It’s ok Dean. You’re safe here. Sleep.” He said to his sibling, watching as Dean curled up further, and succumbed to the sleep his battered body so badly needed.

Sam watched Dean sleep for a while before he pulled out his cell and hit the speed dial.

“Sam?”

“I found him. I got him out.” Sam said quietly.

“Oh thank god. Is he ok? What did she do to him?” Bobby asked. Sam could hear the concern in the older hunter’s voice.

“I, I think you need to be here Bobby. He doesn’t know who he is. I mean, he answers to Dean, but doesn’t know who I am, didn’t recognise the Impala, he’s not talking. I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh Sam. I’ll there as soon as I can. Just, keep an eye on him; convince him that he’s safe. And for god’s sake, hide the weapons stash.”

Sam felt stupid. He hadn’t even considered the weapons stashed throughout the room. “But Bobby, will how know where they are and how to use them?”

“Sam, it’ll be the same way it is with sleep walkers. It’s the subconscious at work. How do you think that people manage to unlock doors, and start cars, and walk or drive to places that they know, while being asleep. If the subconscious knows how to do something, they will be able to do it. And in Dean’s case, that means handling any sort of weapon he can get his hands on. If he gets his hands on any of those weapons, and then he gets spooked, someone’s likely to end up seriously injured or dead. And your brother is good without a weapon. We need to reduce the risk of him hurting himself, or someone else ok. I’ll call you when I’m getting close.”

“Thanks Bobby.”

“No problem kid.” Bobby said before he cut the call.

Sam sighed, tossed the phone onto the other bed, and ran his hands through his hair. He grabbed his laptop and sat on the chair he’d dragged between the beds so he could keep an eye on Dean. He booted the laptop up, and searched for psychological disorders with the symptoms his brother showed. He got thousands of hits. He was in for some serious study.

Retribution and Breaking Points Master Post

2009-11-12T23:32:28Z

TITLE: Retribution and Breaking Points
RATING: NC-17
WORD COUNT: 14748
CHARACTERS: Dean, Sam, Bobby, OC's
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them, only playing with them
SUMMARY: When A Drink and a pool game turn into retribution, Sam must race against time to find his brother.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5

Retribution and Breaking Points Chapter 5/5

2009-10-19T10:19:24Z

TITLE: Retribution and Breaking Points
RATING: NC-17
CHAPTER: 5/5
WORD COUNT: This chapter: 3841, Whole Story: 14748
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them, only playing with them
SUMMARY: When A Drink and a pool game turn into retribution, Sam must race against time to find his brother.

Well, here it is. Final chapter. Let me know what you think. There is a sequel.

Sam was up as dawn started. As the sun’s rays had barely started to warm the earth, Sam repeated the previous morning’s routine and was back in the Impala, tearing through the streets of this little town before 7AM. Dean was dying. Sam didn’t know how he knew, he just did. Dean was dying so Sam didn’t have time to waste. He had 5 more back roads to search and he prayed that he would find Dean, still breathing, at the end of one of them.

********

Dean woke to his body being hauled upright. His arms were once again chained and he was roughly picked up and hung from that damn hook again. He couldn’t breathe properly; it hurt too much to do it. A shallow breath was all his battered body could take and even that was difficult. Dean’s vision swam as he opened his eyes. He could see her, touching things that were on the table. He could faintly hear someone moving around behind him. He knew that they were tired of playing games. He knew that this time they were going to break him, permanently. Sophia hadn’t even turned around when he felt the burning of the hot poker against his arm, and he let out a scream. When he said he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory he didn’t mean this. He didn’t care anymore, didn’t want to be brave. Sophia moved and he got a good look at her toys. His heart sank. They weren’t going to kill him, at least, not outright. They were going to torture him until he couldn’t take it anymore. They were going to torture him until his body gave in and he died.

He felt the chills racking his body. He nearly laughed out loud. With everything that was about to happen, and had happened, he was worried about the fact that he had a fever. He knew that, even with a fever as high as the one he had, it unfortunately wouldn’t kill him before they were through with him. Sophia turned to him, holding the hunting knife. She smiled at him before handing it to whoever stood behind him. He felt the tip of it rest at the base of his neck, directly above his spine, then felt it slice into his flesh, following the line of his spine right down to his tailbone. He felt the warmth of his blood trickle down his back. He knew that they were only toying with him. The cuts weren’t going to be deep, just enough to bleed a little, to hurt a lot. They wouldn’t even scar. Dean felt her slice just above the waistband of his jeans on his stomach. He moaned in pain this time, too tired to yell, to hoarse to scream. He felt them carve him up until he was almost ready to pass out. Then they stopped.

He let his eyes slipped closed in the brief respite from the torture being inflicted on his battered body. He could feel the pull of the darkness waiting for him, and he hoped against everything else, that this time when the darkness took him, it would be the last time. Sorry Sammy, Dean thought, I tried. I tried to fight, tried not to give in, but it’s so damn hard to keep doing this. I’m so tired Sammy. You’ll be ok; you can go back to school, go back to normal. Find another girl; get your white picket fence and your 2.5 kids with the family dog. Be the hotshot lawyer you always wanted me. You never needed me anyway. You could always look after yourself; it was me that needed to look after you. Only because I never really knew anything else. I hope you’ll forgive me kiddo, if I’m not here when you find me. There was no doubt in Dean’s mind that Sam would find me, even after everything the hallucinations told him. He knew, in the light of day, with his rational thoughts overriding the emotional ones, that that’s what they really were; his worst fears come to life in the form of hallucinations. He knew that the water he was given had to have something in it, but when that was all you were given to drink, and stomaching food was out of the question, hallucinations were, really, the best of the worst. Dean knew that Sam would find him; it was just a matter of when, and if his baby brother would find him fast enough.

He breathed a sigh of relief, just before he felt the scorching pain of the fire poker in his back. He felt one on his left arm, just down from the other one; he felt them on his chest, on his stomach. He writhed from the pain and the last thing Dean heard was Sophia’s cold laugh as he slipped into the awaiting darkness.

********

Sam had searched every back road he could find. Not one of them had churches, or even remains of churches. Sam had hit a brick wall. He was lost, he didn’t know what to do. So he drove. He drove up and down every street this little town had, hoping to find what he was searching for.

********

Dean woke to a vision of Sam staring at him, smirking. His lips twisted in a way Sam’s should never be. “Nice to see you finally found your potential Dean. How’s it feel to know you’re only good as a whipping boy?” Sam’s laugh echoed off the walls as he disappeared, morphing into his father. “We’ll, you’re all tied up, aren’t you boy. Maybe this is how I should have punished you as a kid. Seems to work better than making you run 10 miles.” His father morphed into his mother. “Mistake,” she whispered to him. “Never should have happened. Didn’t need you, I had Sam.” Dean closed his eyes against the images, but he couldn’t block out the noises. They just layered on top of one another, until one word was echoing around his head, yelled by 3 different voices: “WORTHLESS!”

********

Finally Sam was travelling down a dirt back road, leading away from town. He’d clearly missed it the first time he’d been passed it, and nearly missed it again. It was nearing 6pm, and the sun was sinking on the horizon. Sam knew it was stupid to do this in the dark, but he had to get to Dean. He followed the road, slowly because Dean would kill him if he got scratches on his baby, for about 3 miles, finally coming up on an abandoned church. Sam knew in his gut that this was the place. It was dark and foreboding, the quickly approaching night not helping with the atmosphere. Why do all the freaks come out at night? Sam thought as he pulled the car off the dirt road, into a grove of trees, hiding it from view. The closer he got to the church, the more his instincts screamed at him that Dean was in there. He quickly, and silently, got out of the car, taking care in closing the door in an attempt to stop the normally comforting squeak, and rushed to the trunk, pulling out salt, holy water, Dean’s pistol, his own pistol, and a few extra rounds of silver bullets. He quietly closed the trunk, and on silent feet, ran through the forest until the church was in sight again. He held his breath as a woman, maybe in her late 20’s, and a man came out of the building. The man was huge. He had at least 6 inches on Sam, and was probably twice as wide. All muscle too. Dean really is good if he managed to do damage to someone that size, Sam thought as he watched the hulk get into a truck and drive away, and the woman turned and walked back into the church. Sam waited a full 5 minutes, making sure they weren’t coming back, before running from his cover towards the building. He had to get his brother out.

He quietly searched the outside of the building, noticing a window at ground level. Sam dropped onto his stomach and inched his way toward the window. He wanted to see what was inside, but he didn’t want to be seen. What he saw, when he finally got close enough, took his breath away. Dean was hanging on a hook, like a piece of meat, his hands chained together above his head. He was alone in the room. Hold on Dean Sam thought as he stood up again. I’m going to get you out. Quickly, and on silent feet, Sam rounded the side of the church, stopping at the front doors. He sent up a silent prayer to whoever had the unfortunate job of looking out for the Winchester’s, thanking them for letting the woman leave the doors open just enough for Sam to slip through them. He quietly made his way through the doors and into the church. Dean was obviously in a basement, now Sam just had to work out how to get to it. Usually there was a door in a back room that led down to the basement. Sam just had to find it.

********

Dean groaned as his shoulders once again protested holding his weight. This time is wasn’t long before he was unhooked and thrown to the ground. He didn’t even fight back this time. His family hated him, thought he was a mistake and a failure. What point was there in fighting back? Maybe this way she’d kill him quick. He watched with eyes at half mast, as she circled around him. She was toying with him, telling him how Sam must really hate him; that he hadn’t even been looking for Dean. Dean didn’t really care too much anymore, so he tuned her words out. He thought he saw movement behind her, but put it down to the pit-bull of a bodyguard that had pulled him from the hook. He thought he heard the sound of a struggle and then of something heavy hitting the ground, but put it down to hallucinations.

“So what do you think Dean, should I kill you slow, or fast?” Sophia purred. “I mean, it’s not like there’s anyone to hear you scream, and even if there was, it’s not like they’d care.” She laughed coldly, eyes dancing with hatred, sparkling with glee at the broken man laid out on the ground before her.

Dean thought he heard an answering voice before the sound of a gun firing and Sophia dropped to the ground in front of him, before passing out once again.

********

Sam made his way to the back of the church, making sure not to alert anyone to his presence. He made it to what looked to be a kitchen of some sort when he thought he heard voices. He pressed himself up against the wall, barely breathing, slowing the pounding heartbeat he could feel in his head. He heard it again, the sound of voices, this time accompanied by the sound of metal against metal. Then he heard something drop to the ground. He spied a slightly open door. He made his way over to it, spying a set of stone steps, leading to what he presumed to be the basement. As he silently made his way down the steps he heard the woman’s voice taunting Dean. He thought he heard a whimper. That can’t be Dean, can it? Dean doesn’t make that kind of noise. He’s too strong to make that kind of noise. As Sam made it to the bottom of the steps he noticed another figure leaning against the wall. Another bodyguard? Sam wondered as he drew nearer to him. He was almost on him when the bodyguard turned, spying Sam. Sam reacted instantly, a few punches and the guy was rendered unconscious. Sam lowered him down to the ground carefully, making sure no noise was made that could alert anyone, ensuring no more pain was inflicted on his brother. He heard the woman’s voice clearly now, her icy tone chilling Sam to the bone. He could see Dean curled up in a heap at her feet.

“I mean, it’s not like there’s anyone to hear you scream, and even if there was, it’s not like they’d care.” Sam heard her taunt. He stepped through the door, raising his pistol filled with silver rounds as he did so.

“Yeah, actually there is.” He said before firing off 3 shots. He hit her twice in the chest, once in the head. He cautiously made his way over to Dean. His breath caught in his throat - Dean wasn’t moving.

“No, no, no, no. Dean wake up,” Sam whispered as he took in Dean’s battered body. The burns, and the cuts and bruises. He couldn’t see his back but was sure it would be just as bad if not worse. Gently Sam reached for Dean’s right side, hand ghosting over a couple of broken ribs. Dean didn’t even blink. Sam cautiously felt for a pulse, letting out a relieved sigh as the thready beat pulsed under his fingers. “Come on bro, open your eyes.” Sam watched Dean for a few seconds longer before he realised Dean wasn’t breathing. “No, no, no, no, no, no.” Sam repeated over and over again as he carefully laid Dean fully on his back on the ground and started breathing for him. “Come on man,” breath, “don’t do this to me,” breath, “wake up Dean. You can’t leave me here, not like this!” Suddenly Dean started coughing, choking on the blood making its way up his throat. Sam carefully rolled him onto his side and Dean lethargically spat the blood onto the floor.

After a few seconds, his coughing stopped and he looked at Sam. Suddenly fear flashed through his eyes and he tried to curl up into a ball again. “Dean, it’s ok, it’s Sam. It’s just Sam.” Sam spoke in a low, soothing voice; the same one you would use to calm a spooked horse. “It’s ok, it’s just me.” He repeated over and over, his hand out in a calming gesture. Dean flinched back, his back hitting the stone wall, a small hiss of pain escaping Dean’s clenched jaw.

“Sam doesn’t need me. Thinks I’m a failure, a mistake.” Dean said quietly. “He thinks he would have been better off without me, would have been better off if I’d never existed. He’d have a mom, and a dad, and Jess.” Dean’s breath hitched. “Shouldn’t have ever been born.”

Sam’s heart clenched tight in his chest. “No man, I don’t think that. I’d never think that. Mom and Jess, that wasn’t your fault. Really Dean, I don’t blame you.”

Dean just kept talking, as if his brother hadn’t uttered a word, “And I’m not smart enough, just good to be a soldier. Not even good enough to look after Sammy, nearly got him killed. I’m worthless, should just let me die. Don’t need me, nobody needs me.” Dean was rocking, his knees drawn up to his chest, despite the excruciating agony it caused, his arms wrapped around his knees, rocking back and forth on the rough, cold floor.

Sam ran a hand through his hair. Dean really was broken. “Dean,” he tried again. “Dean man, listen to me. You’re everything to me. You’re my mother, and father, and brother all wrapped into one. If I didn’t have you, I wouldn’t be me. I need you Dean. I’ve always needed you.” Tears were flowing freely down his face as he watched his broken brother rock slowly back and forth, spewing words about being worthless and nothing. It broke his heart. Sam reached out a hand, letting it rest softly on Dean’s shoulder. “Dean please, let me at least take you back to the motel, let me clean your wounds. Let me help you.”

Suddenly Dean stopped his rocking and looked at Sam, but when Sam looked into those eyes he knew almost better than his own, he saw no recognition. “You just want to help me?” He looked confused. “Why would you want to do that? I mean I’m nothing.”

“No Dean, not nothing. Just confused. You’re tired, and sick, and confused. Your mind is playing tricks on you.”

“You just want to help me? Nothing else?” Sam saw something like hope in his brother’s eyes.

“Just want to help you Dean, that’s all.” Sam’s eyes pleaded with Dean.

After what felt like forever, with his brother staring back at him, Dean slowly nodded, and Sam let out a sigh of relief. He stood, offering Dean a hand up. Dean let out a scream when Sam grabbed his right arm, and Sam felt the cracking of dried blood, and the warmth of fresh blood under his fingers. He shrugged out of his jacket and overshirt and gently placed them around Dean’s shoulders.

********

Dean opened his eyes, rolling onto his back. He saw a guy, Sam his brain whispered to him, sitting next to him. His voice was soothing, and he didn’t look like he wanted to hurt him.

“Dean, it’s ok, it’s Sam. It’s just Sam. It’s ok, it’s just me.” He repeated the same words, the same concrete reassurances, over and over again. He held his hand out towards Dean, and Dean couldn’t help but shrink back away from it. He saw the man’s face fall slightly and he would have felt sorry for him if his back hadn’t hit the wall.

“Sam doesn’t need me. Thinks I’m a failure, a mistake.” Dean said quietly, the words his family had thrown at him reverberating around in his head. The man looked shocked. He had to get him to understand so he kept talking. “Sam thinks he would have been better off without me, would have been better off if I’d never existed. He’d have a mom, and a dad, and Jess.” Dean’s breath hitched, he wasn’t sure why he said that. “Shouldn’t have ever been born.”

Dean thought he heard the man, Sam his brain said again, talking to him, but Dean kept talking, right over the top of him. “And I’m not smart enough, just good to be a soldier. Not even good enough to look after Sammy, nearly got him killed. I’m worthless, should just let me die. Don’t need me, nobody needs me.” Dean pulled his knees to his chest, ignoring the pain, and wrapped his arms around them in an unconscious protective gesture. He started rocking backwards and forwards. If he couldn’t get the guy to understand, then maybe he’d think he was crazy and put him out of his misery.

The man, Sam, started talking again. “Dean,” he tried again. “Dean man, listen to me. You’re everything to me. You’re my mother, and father, and brother all wrapped into one. If I didn’t have you, I wouldn’t be me. I need you Dean. I’ve always needed you.” Tears were flowing freely down the man’s face. Dean had broken him too. “Dean please, let me at least take you back to the motel, let me clean your wounds. Let me help you.”

This was different. He wanted to help him? Not hurt him? Dean stopped rocking and looked at Sam. “You just want to help me?” Dean cocked his head to the side. “Why would you want to do that? I mean I’m nothing.”

“No Dean, not nothing. Just confused. You’re tired, and sick, and confused. Your mind is playing tricks on you.”

“You just want to help me? Nothing else?” Dean wanted to trust this man, Sam.

“Just want to help you Dean, that’s all.” Dean stared into the depths of the hazel eyes looking back at him. He couldn’t see any hatred, could only see concern, compassion, maybe something else he couldn’t put his finger on. The man, Sam, looked so honest, so devastated, that Dean couldn’t help but trust him. Slowly he nodded and Sam let out a breath. Sam stood, offering Dean a hand. But Sam inadvertently grabbed Dean’s right arm, instead of his hand, and Dean let out a scream. He knew they all wanted him to scream, the torture stopped once he screamed. It always did. Sam quickly withdrew his hand, looking, for all intents and purposes, like a kicked puppy. He shrugged out of his jacket and shirt and carefully laid them around Dean’s shoulders. Dean didn’t know why, but he felt at home with these clothes. He felt safe. He let Sam lead him out of the church towards an old black car. Dean felt that he should remember it, but he couldn’t quite get there. When he leaned, carefully, back into the leather, he felt waves of emotion crash over him, safe, loved, home. Dean closed his eyes, and slipped into sleep. He felt safe with this man, and right now, that was all his battered body, and fragile mind needed.

********

Dean blinked at the sunlight as they made their way out of the church. When they made it to the Impala, Sam waited for recognition to flash across Dean’s face. He was disappointed when it didn’t. He unlocked the passenger’s side door and helped Dean slide in. He shut the door and quickly made it to the driver’s side. After sliding into the car, and closing the door he looked at Dean. Dean had burrowed his way into Sam’s clothes, huddled against the door, his forehead resting on the window. Sam turned the key and the Impala growled to life.

The entire ride back to the motel Sam threw glances at his brother. Dean whimpered and mumbled in his sleep. Sam kept hearing the words ‘not good enough’ and ‘mistake’ come from his brother’s mouth. Bobby was right. Sam had gotten his brother back, but he hadn’t gotten his Dean back. The man sitting next to him wasn’t the same one who taught him how to shoot and throw knives. Wasn’t the same one who taught him to ride a bike and pick up chicks. Wasn’t the same one that helped him with his maths and science homework, the only subjects Sam struggled with and Dean excelled in, helping him keep up his GPA so he could get into Stanford. Getting his Dean back, the Dean he needed, was the next task. No way was some stupid witch taking away his rock, the axis on which his world turned. This witch wasn’t taking Dean, not without a fight. And if Sam knew how to do anything, it was dig in his heels and fight for something he believed in. The witch had picked the wrong family to deal with.

Retribution and Breaking Points Chapter 4/5

2009-10-19T10:16:43Z

TITLE: Retribution and Breaking Points
RATING: NC-17
CHAPTER: 4/5
WORD COUNT: This chapter: 3223, Whole Story: 14748
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them, only playing with them
SUMMARY: When A Drink and a pool game turn into retribution, Sam must race against time to find his brother.

Dean carefully opened his eyes to find that he was still lying on the floor, but the towel was missing. The light was once again shining through the window. He reasoned he’d been here for 2 days, this making wonderful number 3. Don’t bad things always come in three’s? Dean’s muddled brain pulled from somewhere in its depths. Maybe this means that this will be the last day in here. Dean hoped against hope that it was true. Dean made a few quick calculations in his head. The brothers had gotten to town early Monday morning, he was taken Tuesday night. If he’d been here 2 days already, that meant that this was Friday. Come on Sam. Get me out of here, then I can spend Saturday night getting stinkin’ drunk, Dean mused. He was pulled from his thoughts, and fantasies about what else he’d get up to when he heard the click of the lock and then the scrape of the door being opened. He raised his head, then stopped. The figure standing in the doorway was “Sam?” Dean croaked.

The figure stepped through the door. “God Dean, I thought you were dead. I looked everywhere for you for 2 days straight. This was the last place left. Are you ok? What did they do to you?” Sam kneeled next to Dean, raising his shirt a little to let him look at the burns that covered Dean’s chest. “These don’t look too bad Dean.” He said as he gently lowered the shirt.

Dean groaned as he fought back a cough. He couldn’t do it and suddenly he was on his hands and knees trying to hack up a lung. If the puddle under his head was any indication, he was doing a pretty good job. The spit underneath his head was now blood red.

“Come on Dean, you need a hospital.” Dean felt arms encircling his waist as the figure helped him stand. Dean couldn’t hold back a cry as agonising pain swept through his torso. “It’s ok, I gotcha Dean.” Dean closed his eyes, focusing on the voice in his ear. There was something wrong about it. The thought hit him light a bolt of lightening. Strength he didn’t know he had swept through him as he pushed the figure wearing his brother’s face away from him.

Dean staggered back a few paces, his left arm protectively cradling his bruised and broken ribs. “You’re not Sam.” He snarled. The figure, who was still wearing Sam’s face smirked. “What did you do to him?” Dean demanded as the figure walked over towards the door. “If you hurt him I’ll kill you. I’ll hunt each and every single one of you down.” Dean yelled as the door closed and he heard the familiar snap of the lock.

With no one to see his weakness, Dean’s legs refused to hold him up any more and he dropped heavily to the ground, the shocks that were sent shooting up his battered body from his knees impact on the unyielding cement floor caused another bought of coughing sending another wave of pain through his battered and bruised body.

Dean crawled over to the water bottle and carefully took a sip. It was still cool, and it was welcome relief against Dean’s parched throat. He rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes, the blessed darkness of unconsciousness welcoming him.

********

The woman smiled from her vantage point. She watched as the hunter’s legs gave out and he crawled to the bottle of water left for him. She felt a presence behind her.

“He is strong,” came the voice of her companion behind her right shoulder.

“That makes him all the more fun to watch.” She smiled. This time she’d tap into his deepest fears.

********

Sam woke slowly this time, his eyes searching out his brother’s bed before his brain had time to catch up with him. As his eyes scanned the empty bed, his mind focused. Sam quickly threw the sheets and blankets aside and climbed out of bed and raced into the shower. He didn’t allow himself time to enjoy it. He got in, did what he needed to and got out. Quickly drying off and getting dressed, he grabbed the notebook with the old back roads he’d drawn in it. He slipped on his jacket, and grabbed the keys to the Impala. He’d grab coffee on the way. The entire time he spent from waking to starting the Impala... less than 10 minutes. He didn’t even turn on the laptop to see if there was a new email or new photos. He knew Dean was in a bad way, he didn’t need the visuals to distract him.

********

Dean woke this time to his arms aching, and his shoulder’s protesting his weight. His wrists were tied together with heavy chains. The chains had been slipped over a hook that was hanging from yet more chain, fastened to the ceiling. Dean tried to flex his feet, but found that, no matter how he tried, he couldn’t touch the floor.

“Hello Dean,” Sophia purred. She held a large hunting knife in her hands. He shivered with the cold, noticing the room was lit only by the few candles in the room. It was either night again, or they had blacked out the window. He was leaning towards the latter. He realised he was missing his shirt.

She noticed his gaze landed on the knife. She noticed the fear that flickered through his eyes before the walls slammed up, his defences in place. She smiled. She knew it wouldn’t take much to make them fall again. “You and this knife are going to be very well acquainted soon.” She said. He hadn’t felt another presence in the room until he felt a cold bade up against his spine.

“Scared boy?” A male voice said in his ear.

“Me? Scared?” Dean smirked. “You obviously don’t know me.” The man agonisingly slowly, slid the blade down Dean’s left shoulder blade. Dean felt the warm trail of blood flow down his back. He ground his teeth, but didn’t make a sound. He felt the same thing down his other shoulder blade.

The woman was inspecting her fingernails. “You know Dean,” she said as she raised her own knife, “this will go a lot faster if you scream.”

“Bite me,” Dean said. She tilted her head, not taking her eyes off him, as she sliced the blade through the skin under the deepest of the burns, just above his belly button. “Sonofabitch!” Dean yelled.

She smirked. “Well, that’s closer,” She shrugged. “But not what I’m after.”

She stood on a stool that he hadn’t noticed, and then proceeded to draw the tip of the knife from the inside of his right wrist, to the inside of his elbow. It wasn’t too deep, just deep enough to hurt like hell. At the same time, he felt another slice across the middle of his back. He yelled this time, but still didn’t scream. He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction. He could take anything they dished out to him.

“Hmm” Sophia mused. “Obviously we’ll need to try something else.” She went over to the table, poking through the things that lined it until she came across what she wanted. “Ah ha,” she said in quiet victory as she picked up a cat o’ nine tails. Dean shivered. That might make me scream, his internal voice said, contradicting the bravado he tried to convey. The tiny hooks on the end of the tails caught the flickering lights of the candles. “Think this will make you scream?” She asked him, almost innocently. It was as if she was asking him what his favourite ice cream was. He didn’t give her an answer. He didn’t see her hand the whip over to her mate. Only felt the biting of the hooks as they bit into the skin as the same time he heard the crack of the whip. He let out a whimper, too surprised at the ferocity of the attack to do much else. He felt small bits of skin rip as he whip was torn from his skin. He heard the crack again, and this time screamed as the hooks bit into his skin.

She smiled as he screamed as the hooks dislodged and pulled yet more skin from his back. “See, now that wasn’t so hard was it?” She had her mate unhook him, and untie his hands. He was in too much pain to even think about fighting back and they knew it. That made him angry. Before she left she threw him another towel and water bottle. Once again he took a small sip of the water. The one she had given him before had been fine, so he felt ok with this one, taking a sip before even looking to see if the bottle was sealed. He recapped the bottle and sat it on the ground before laying the towel on the ground and, feeling the rivulets of blood flowing down his back and across his stomach, curled into a ball and fell into the blessed oblivion.

********

He woke next time to a female voice humming Alice Cooper’s poison. He slowly opened his eyes, each time he did it, it was getting harder. He raised his head, stopping when he saw the figure, swinging her legs from where she was seated on the wooden barrel. “Mom?” Dean croaked. Even talking was getting harder to do.

“Hi Dean.” She gracefully slipped off the barrel and walked over toward her. Her white nightgown swishing around her legs as she moved. She came to a stop beside him and crouched down. She gently used her hand to raise his chin, the other sweeping through his hair, careful to avoid the lump on the back of his head. “Oh my baby boy. What did they do to you?” She ran her hand from his hair down the side of his face, and he leaned into the touch. Some part of his brain screamed at him that this wasn’t real. “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t want this for any of you.” She let go of him and stood. She walked toward the middle of the room. Dean could smell the acrid smell of smoke.

“No,” he whispered to the figure he knew wasn’t his mother. “No, this isn’t real, you’re not real.” But he couldn’t get the smell of smoke away. He watched helplessly as the figure suddenly burst into flames. “NO!” He yelled, even though the rational part of his brain was screaming at him that it wasn’t real. The emotional side was overpowering the rational part of his brain, and he couldn’t think, only feel. Feel the pain of losing his mother all over again. Feel the anguish of watching one of the most precious things in his life, the one thing he’s really held onto over the years, burn.

Suddenly there was another figure there. “How could you let it happen Dean?” Came his father’s voice. “How could you let her burn again?” Dean clearly saw his father, walking menacingly toward him. Dean whimpered slightly, crawling back, moving away from the thing wearing his father’s face. He unknowingly backed himself into a corner, whimpering, again, when his bruised ribs and bloody back came into contact with the stone wall. “Can’t even remember the simplest lessons can you boy? What happened to never getting yourself backed into a corner? Never being vulnerable? Knew you were the stupid one out of you and your brother.”

“No,” Dean whispered.

John leaned in towards Dean. Dean could smell the whisky on his breath. “I wasn’t too mad when Sam left. I had you to order around. I had you to play lap dog. I had you, you who would never talk back, never question an order and never have a single original thought.“ John laughed, cold and mad.

“No, no that’s not true.” Dean said, curling up into a ball. “It’s not true. My dad would never think that.” Just as suddenly as he had appeared, John disappeared, leaving Dean alone.

Dean curled up into a ball, ignoring the pain from his ribs, and the burning across his chest. He rocked back and forth, chanting over and over again “I’m not stupid, dad wouldn’t think that, do have original thoughts. Not stupid, not stupid, not stupid.”

The woman watched him through the monitors of the cameras she had installed in the basement. She laughed softly. Her laugh was as cold as the Arctic wind. “He broke. I knew it was only a matter of time.” She laughed again as she watched the broken man on the monitors, saying over and over again “I’m not stupid, I’m not stupid, not stupid.” She watched until he succumbed to the pull of sleep again.

********

Sam was on his 8^th cup of coffee as he turned back towards town, this road, just like the last 6 he’d tried that morning, a dead end. There was nothing at the end of this road. Literally. It was just an empty field, with a few pieces of wood where, presumably, a house had once stood. Sam prayed that it wasn’t where the church had been last time. No it’s not Sam sternly told himself. It’s not where the church was, it’s only a house. It has to be. It has to be the remains of a house, because if it’s not... If it’s not then... Sam stopped that line of thought. It didn’t do any good thinking negatively. He had to be positive. There can’t be that many more roads. It was getting late into the afternoon. Sam looked at the map. Only another 6. He’d already looked at 7 that morning, 4 this afternoon and a further 4 yesterday. How many back roads can a place like this have? Sam thought idly as his cell started to ring.

“Bobby?” Sam answered.

“Sam. Have you found anything?” The grizzled older hunter’s voice coming through the line. Sam would never tell him this, but he always felt a little safer when he was talking to Bobby. Not as safe as he felt with Dean, but still, safe.

“No, nothing yet. I keep driving up and down these back roads trying to find the church Dean was at last time, but I can’t find it.”

“Keep trying kid. He has to be there somewhere. You’ll find him. But Sam...”

“But what Bobby?” Sam prompted when the older hunter trailed off.

“Nothing, it’s nothing Sam.”

“Bobby. What is it?”

Sam heard Bobby sigh on the other end. ”When we find him, it might not be him anymore.”

Sam laughed. “What do you mean not him Bobby? Of course it’ll be Dean. Who else would it be?”

“Sam, when a witch takes someone for retribution, it’s never pretty when you get them back. She always takes pleasure in torturing them.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Sam muttered darkly.

“No, not physically Sam. We’ll ok physically too,” Bobby relented “But mentally. She’ll try to break him Sam. And if she does...” Bobby let the sentence hang in the air.

“Dean’s too stubborn to break Bobby. He’ll be fine.”

“Damnit boy! Everyone has a limit; everyone reaches the end of their rope. The human mind is fragile, and you don’t know what it will take to get Dean to break!”

“Well let’s find him before he reaches his limit them!” Sam yelled into the mouthpiece before angrily cutting the call, throwing the phone onto the leather seat. He ran a hand through his too long hair. He knew Bobby was right, that was what had caused his outburst. He knew Dean could break. He knew, once they caught onto the only weakness Dean had, the witch would be relentless. She’d batter his defences until he broke. And with his body’s defences already down, Sam wasn’t sure how long Dean’s mental defences could hold.

********

She watched in delight as Dean curled in on himself, his body’s pain being overridden by his minds pain. She watched as he shied away from things that weren’t even there. She couldn’t stop the smile that worked its way over her face, or the triumphant laughter that rang out, reverberating off the unused church’s walls.

********

Dean watched helplessly as his mother, father, and Sam walked towards him. He saw flames all over his mother’s body, but she never really burned. Her nightdress and hair were fully alight, but she never burned. His father, looking like Dean was something he stepped in. And Sam. Sam looked like he couldn’t care less, and that broke Dean’s heart.

“You know, all I ever needed you for was to watch out for Sam.” John’s voice taunted as he stepped ever closer to Dean’s trembling form. “You were only good for me as a soldier, as protection for Sam. And you couldn’t even do that right. Remember all the times that Sam was hurt because of your incompetence?!” John was yelling at him, and Dean was practically shrinking. “Remember the Striga?!”

“I could have died Dean. All because you wanted to get out. All because you needed... a little... air.” Sam smirked, his voice dripping with menace. “I was glad I went away. I could defend myself. I didn’t need to worry that you were going to get me killed.”

“I’m glad I didn’t get to see you grow up.” Mary’s voice was cold and harsh. “I am so disappointed in you Dean. It should have just been me, your father, and Sam. You never should have been in the equation. You were just a mistake.”

“NO!!!!” Dean screamed into the empty room. “No. No, no, no,” Dean’s voice was broken by a harsh bought of coughing. He didn’t even care this time. Didn’t care that the puddle beneath his head was more blood that saliva this time, he didn’t try to support his shifting ribs as coughs racked his frame. The only thing he could think about what that his family thought he was a failure. That John never cared for him, that Sam thought he was better off without him. That his mother considered him a mistake. Dean curled up into a ball, a sob tearing itself from his throat. He didn’t care about keeping up his cocky facade any more. If his family didn’t think he was worth it, then it didn’t matter. He let the sobs rack his body, and he hoped that his broken rib would move, just far enough to hit something vital. Just far enough to kill him. He got his wish, sort of. The rib moved, and it punctured something. It hurt like hell. Dean sobbed until the blessed darkness came and took him away. As the moon’s rays reached his spot on the floor, he slipped away.

Retribution and Breaking Points Chapter 3/5

2009-10-13T17:44:23Z

TITLE: Retribution and Breaking Points
RATING: NC-17
CHAPTER: 3/5
WORD COUNT: This chapter: 2384, Whole Story: 14748
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them, only playing with them
SUMMARY: When A Drink and a pool game turn into retribution, Sam must race against time to find his brother.

Sam drove the impala back to the motel, his mind ticking over what Steven had told him. What has Dean got himself into this time? Steven’s words rolled around his head. A woman was killed 4 years ago. The woman putting up posters is her sister. She always travels with a big man. Sister was supposed to be a witch or something like it. Sam pulled up in front of their room, and killed the engine. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket as he opened the door. “What do you know about the hunts Dean did when I was at school, and he wasn’t hunting with dad?”

“Sam?”

“Yes! Who the hell else would it be? What do you know?”

“Well I’ll just get out the little diary I have of where you boys are at exactly every minute of every day shall I?” Bobby was getting angry. Bobby didn’t do that very often.

“I’m sorry Bobby.” Gee, I seem to be saying that a lot lately. “I just spoke to the bartender from the other night. Does the name Steven Young mean anything to you?”

“No, why?”

Sam sighed. “He said he was helped out by a hunter about 15 years ago, and he keeps his eyes out for anything supernatural, gives hunters a place to stay. Thought you might know him.”

“Sorry son, but I’ll see what I can dig up.”

“Thanks Bobby. He doesn’t seem off, but he pegged me for a hunter straight away, and that makes me nervous.”

“Sure Sam. Did he tell you anything helpful?”

“Apparently, there’s this woman, and she’d been looking for someone for the last 3 years. Now, from what Steven told me, this woman had a sister, and 3 years ago, that sister turned up dead. She was supposed to be a witch of some sort.”

“You think it was Dean?”

“Possibly. I mean, if I can get some lead on what he did over that year, and where he was, I might be able to get a lead on him now.”

“Sam, do you have his journal?”

“What good is dad’s journal gonna do now Bobby?” Why couldn’t the man see he was asking stupid questions?

Bobby sighed. The boy really didn’t know his brother. “Not John’s you idiot. Dean’s. Dean’s journal. The one that he writes in.”

“Dean has a journal?” Sam sat down, or rather, fell down, into a chair. Dean has a journal, why didn’t I know about this?

“Yes, your brother has a journal. See if you can find it, it might be able to give you something to work with. Now ONLY call if you have something to help with. Don’t call me, I’ll call you if I find anything.” With that Bobby hung up the phone.

Sam ran a hand through his hair. He was rifling through Dean’s duffel before he realised he’d even gotten off the chair. Ah ha. There, right at the bottom, under everything else, was Dean’s journal. Hoping to find out where his brother was 3 years ago, Sam sat down against the headboard of Dean’s bed, and started reading.

********

“You know,” Dean gasped, blood trickling from his mouth, “this whole torture routine is getting old. Do you think I could get something to eat? Maybe a cheeseburger?” The man backhanded him across the mouth, sending Dean flying into the wall yet again, and had him landing on his hands and knees, his head hanging between his arms. Then the man abruptly turned and left. “Extra onions.” Dean called before the door once again slammed shut. Dean couldn’t suppress the cough that tore from his throat, the puddle beneath his head tinged with blood. He knew he was in serious trouble. He lifted his head as he heard the door open again. Preparing himself for another round of Winchester batting practice, Dean stood, and on shaky legs, faced his newest companion.

A young woman stood in front of him. About 5’6”, with light brown hair, and piercing blue eyes, she held a bottle of water, still sealed, and a plate of food. She held both out to him. He warily took both from her. A voice came from the doorway. “Alexandra, you can go.” Alexandra quickly turned and fled the cell, leaving Dean alone with his female captor, yet again.

“We won’t poison you Dean. That takes all the fun out of the game.” The woman stepped towards him, carefully this time. Maybe the damage Dean had done to her other male friend was enough to make her wary of him. But then again, a broken nose, cracked jaw, broken ribs, and a snapped collarbone would make anyone wary, when the person who did it, did it with no weapons other than his hands.

“You know my name; can I get to know yours?” Dean said as he slid slowly down the wall, using it for support, as his left arm wrapped around his ribs, as much to protect the burn as to support his bruised ribs.

The woman smiled, and this time it didn’t seem so menacing. “Sophia.” she said. She handed him a clean towel. He looked at her, trying to figure her out. “Like I said before, where’s the fun if you’re dead now.”

“I’ll be dead soon enough,” Dean said, coughing up yet more blood. “Less than the 2 weeks you gave Sammy to find me.”

“Then you have to hope that Sam’s as smart as you think he is, and he’ll find you before your time’s up.”

Dean opened the water bottle, and carefully took a sip. The cool water felt food on his throat, and he held the bottle against his forehead. He knew he had a fever, the bottle felt like ice against his burning skin.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t realise that Sophia had moved. “This was the easy part Dean. It’s about to get a whole lot worse.” She hissed in his ear before she turned and left, locking the door behind her.

“Get me out of here Sammy, and do it quick.” Dean said. That led to a bought of coughing. Dean closed his eyes, and rested his head on the cool wall behind him. He bought the bottle of water to his forehead yet again, trying to get his fever down, even though he knew it was going to be no help. He put the bottle down, putting the cap back on the bottle, before curling up on the cold floor, the towel as his pillow. Every move he made, he felt the burns across his stomach and chest, and he prayed that they wouldn’t scar too bad. He didn’t even look at the food, humming Metallica’s Black album as he drifted off to sleep.

********

Sam jerked awake at the sound of his laptop announcing yet another email. Groggily he closed Dean’s journal, taking care to mark his place, and he stumbled over to the laptop, dropping into the chair in front of it. He clicked on the link, reading through the email quickly. What he saw made his heart leap into his throat.

You’re brother’s not as tough as we thought he was. Who’d have thought that a little infection and a few bruised ribs would be enough to bring him down. You’d better be as smart as Dean thinks you are little brother. I think big brother’s going to need a hospital, sooner rather than later. And where would the fun be if you found a corpse ha? Although, he did manage to take down one body guard before we got to him. I’ve got to say, even if your brother isn’t tough, he’s a hell of a fighter.

Happy hunting Sammy

Sam clicked on the link to the newest photo. There was Dean, curled up on the floor. This photo was a close up, so Sam got to see Dean in fever mode in full technicolour. It was taken from such a close distance, that Sam could see the sweat beaded on Dean’s forehead.

Sam audibly swallowed, and closed the laptop. That photo just made him more determined to find his brother. Especially since it appeared that he’d taken out one body guard already. That probably just pissed his captors off.

Sam stood and walked over to the bed again. He grabbed Dean’s journal and flicked through it, pausing only at the pages to note the date and place written in the top right hand corner. He was amazed at the amount of time he saw ‘wonder how Sammy’s doing?’, ‘wonder if dad’s ok?’, ‘wonder who the blonde chick with Sammy is?’, scribbled in with Dean’s notes. Finally he found it.

June 28^th 2003

Echo, Oregon

Finally killed the bitch today. Took me longer than I thought. Witches, argh, could there be anything worse. I’d rather take on a pack of werewolves than face one of these again. She took me to an abandoned church, out on some dirt back road that I hadn’t even noticed. She locked me in the basement for 2 days before I got out. Would have escaped sooner if she didn’t drug me. Managed to put a silver bullet through her chest when she came looking for me. Her and that giant oaf she travels with. Wasn’t sure if it would work, but I figure silver bullets kill almost anything, so it couldn’t hurt. Salted and burned her body too. Hopefully no more witches in this little town.

So it was a witch. At least he had a lead. And the place where Dean had been held captive before? Was it too much to ask that whoever had Dean was keeping him in the same place? Couldn’t hurt to look. He called Bobby, telling him what he’d found and Bobby started looking for anything that could kill a witch, but he reasoned with Dean. Silver kills practically anything. Sam grabbed the keys to the impala and rushed from the room.

********

It was almost fully dark by the time Sam pulled the Impala to a stop in front of the motel room door, and cut the comforting throaty growl of the engine. He was really starting to panic. He’d travelled every back road he could find all afternoon, until the darkness crept in and Sam realised that looking in the dark just wasn’t going to be helpful. With a weary sigh, the young hunter pulled his frame from the car, gently closing the door behind him, the other hand holding a bag of take out. On the trip home, his stomach had none to gently reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since he’d first noticed Dean was missing, and that was yesterday. Not that the smell emanating from the bag was really making him feel anything other than nauseous, but he knew that he had to eat. He knew that, if he was going to fine Dean, help him out of whatever mess he’d gotten into this time, he needed to keep up his strength.

Sam unlocked the door, and carefully stepped over the line of salt on the floor. He kicked the door shut, the latch clicking softly as he locked the door. He placed the takeout bag on the table beside the laptop and wearily dropped into the chair in front of it. He booted up the laptop as he pulled the food from the bag, his stomach growling at the thought of food. He quickly checked his inbox for any new emails and wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t find any. He’d only gotten the most recent this morning, so it made sense that he wouldn’t have a new one.

He finished off his meal and then headed for a shower, grabbing clean clothes out of his duffel on the way. He turned the shower on, undressing as the warm steam filled the small bathroom. Stepping under the hard, hot spray, Sam felt his tense muscles relax. He stood under the spray until it started to lose its heat. Sam grudgingly stepped out from under it, turning the water off, and dried himself with one of the provided, scratchy, almost threadbare motel towels. He quickly dressed himself in an old pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. He moved out of the little, steam filled room, into the main room. He couldn’t stop his eyes resting on Dean’s bed, hoping that he’d find Dean sitting there with a 6 pack of beer, and an oversized bag of peanut M&M’s, laughing at the joke he’d played on his brother. Sam couldn’t stop himself hoping that this was all a joke he was on the receiving end of, a prank that he’d pay his brother back for. But the room was empty, silent, and that made Sam jumpy. He grabbed the laptop, and sat on his bed, his back resting against the headboard. He pulled up a map of the town he’d saved earlier, ticking off the back roads he’d already travelled, working out which ones to look at tomorrow. He knew he was of no help to Dean tonight, and he just prayed that Dean was ok, that he could hang on until Sam could find him. At least he had a few clues now. An old hunt, a pissed of witch, and an abandoned church on some dusty back road. Sam had tried searching for the church first, to no avail. He was reduced to driving up and down the many dusty back roads that no one used anymore, in the hope of finding the right church. Sam powered off the laptop, putting it back on the table. He slipped under the covers, pulling them up under his chin and curled around the pillow, hugging it to his chest. He felt like he was 5 years old again, only this time, Dean wasn’t there to stand between him and the monsters that lurked in the dark. Sam slowly drifted off to sleep, one lone tear making its way to the pillow from the corner of his eye..

Writer's Block: Airplane reading

2009-10-07T12:53:53Z

If you're going on a long plane or road trip, what sort of reading materials do you bring along? Is it different from what you usually read? Will you watch a trashy movie or read a bad novel or magazines just to pass the time?

View 851 Answers

Ok, so I can't sleep. I have to be at work in 5.5 hours, up in 4.5 hours. So I'm writing on a writer's blick prompt. "What do you listen to/read on a plane, in a car etc."

I find it hard to read in a car. I don't know what it is, maybe the motion of the car/bus etc, but I get a headache after a while. So I don't really have alot of reading material for travel. Maybe flicking through a newspaper, or a gossipy magazine, but any 'real' reading I leave for home, or at least a place where I'm not moving.

On a plane I read. I read what I normally read. It doesn't change. Maybe a new book that's caught my eye, but my reading material is usually pretty much the same as normal. I can read, and have done, an entire book in a plane ride. I read a Stephen King novel in the plane ride between Sydney and San Francisco.

On a plane I also like to write. Whether it be journal entries about what I've done on my travel, or to do lists about upcoming days, and things I have to organise. I also just jot down thoughts about what's going on, what I've been thinking about, maybe story ideas, training ideas, food ideas, etc, anything that pops into my head. I also like to sketch. Now, I'm no artist, but when the muse strikes, I like to think I'm ok at what I do. I usually need something to base an idea off, a sketch by someone else, a picture, a photo, but once I get an idea I'm off and don't stop until I finish it. Or, get so frustrated that I can't get it exactly right, that I give up.

Ok, so anyone who knows me knows I have a very short attention span, and a wide variety of music. I have everything from old school rock, to country, to pop, to 80's, to instrumental, to soundtracks. My reading material is a little more limited. I have a thing for horror genres. I love Stephen King. I love thrillers that mess with your mind. I love autobiographies, and I love mysteries. That's about it. I need something to interest me in the first few pages or I get bored. I cannot reead Jane Austin or anything like it. I tried. I had to read Emma and Pride and Prejudice for my last 2 years of High School English, and no matter how hard I tried my mind would wander off within the first few pages. Thank god for the movie adaptations of the books. I couldn't really stand those either, but they were better than the books.

My music is my constant. I have it everywhere. I have it when I work out, when I walk to school, when I'm studying, when I'm reading, when I'm surfing the net, even while I read. It's a constant in my life, and if I didn't have it I think I would go crazy. There are some people who never listen to music and I don't know how they do it. My parent's and friends don't quite understand how I manage to concentrate on my studies etc when I've got music in the background, but I've always done it, and always will. No background noise gives me too much room to think. My mind wanders. I think it needs something to box it in, to keep it focused on it's task.

Ok, so off to try and get a few hours sleep before work, and hope that I don't burn my hand off in the bakery tomorrow.

Danni xo

First Post

2009-10-06T13:44:16Z

Just discovered this community, and I'm amazed at the talent there is out there. I do not consider myself a photographer, but I just can't help taking photos of landscapes I find beautiful or intriguing. This is my first time posting some photos I took while on holiday in USA. All feedback is welcome.

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Hope you like

Danni xo

Retribution and Breaking Points Chapter 2/5

2009-09-17T04:38:20Z

TITLE: Retribution and Breaking Points
RATING: NC-17
CHAPTER: 2/5
WORD COUNT: This chapter: 2994, Whole Story: 14748
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them, only playing with them
SUMMARY: When A Drink and a pool game turn into retribution, Sam must race against time to find his brother.

A/N: Credit to CalUK. It seems we shared a muse on this idea, and at the same time. If anyone wants to read, I recomment you read State of Grace. Thanks so much about letting me post this Cal

24 hours after realising Dean was missing, Sam was still at a loss as to how to find him. He hated the feeling of helplessness that enveloped him, more and more with each passing hour. He’d barely slept in the past day, trying to find something, anything, that would lead him to Dean. He knew the answer had to be right in front of him, he just couldn’t see it. Think like Dean, Sam told himself. Dean would know what to look for, would know how to find you. He found you at the Benders place, you can find him now. Sam scrubbed a hand through his tousled hair, jumping in pain when his fingers got caught in a knot. Told you you needed a hair cut didn’t I? Came Dean’s voice again. Why was it that Sam’s internal voice always sounded like Dean?

Sitting open in front of him was a sketch pad. It had every move Dean had made since they got arrived in town 4 days earlier printed on it. Well as much as Sam could remember. He took his eyes off the laptop, looking at his scribbling again.

Monday:
Arrived in town, went to get burgers, spoke to Mrs Sarenten about homicidal ghost, had dinner at diner in town, bed. Did Dean flirt with anyone? Maybe waitress, likely, but don’t remember. Dean was complaining about being tired so probably not.

Tuesday:
Breakfast at diner (did Dean flirt with anyone?), research at library, lunch (did Dean flirt with waitress? Saw guy behind counter shooting daggers in his direction), more research, nap, dinner, salt and burn, left Dean at the bar with a game of pool, a beer and a whole lot of women checking him out.

Wednesday:
Dean’s officially missing, email with photo.... started to panic!

Sam looked over his notes again. They were of no more help now, than they had been 3 hours ago. But for some reason Sam’s focus kept coming back to the women who were staring at Dean while they were at the bar. Now that wasn’t unusual, but Sam wasn’t ignoring anything this time. Not after ignoring his instincts got Dean into the mess in the first place.

Sam pulled up the research he’d done on the missing men, to the forefront of his laptop screen. He was trying to find some common link between them - and Dean. So far nothing. Nada. Ziltch. They ranged in age between 22 and 28, Dean’s age group. They were all male. Not surprising. But there was something else niggling at the back of his brain and he couldn’t quite figure it out.

Standing, Sam stretched the kinks out of his back and neck. Realising that sitting staring at the laptop and sketch book were getting him nowhere, Sam couldn’t resist the lure of a nap any longer. As he drifted off to sleep his last thought was Dean, his annoyingly over active imagination, turning out worst case scenarios. And each one was worse than the last.

********

Dean let out a yell as his arms dropped to his sides as the woman unlocked the chains holding his arms above his head. Dean was in agony as the blood rushed back into his arms and hands, his shoulders no longer straining, but he bit his bottom lip and settled for growling at the woman who was crouched down in front of him. She grabbed his jaw, forcing him to lift his head.

“I learned long ago that the return of feeling to your limbs could be just as painful, if not more so, than having them chained down in some way.” A seductive smile worked its way onto her face. “We’ve been looking for you for such a long time Dean. Do you know how many men we went through before we found you? Of course, once we realised that the disappearances weren’t getting your attention, we had to use... other means.” She dropped his head as she stood.

“What do you mean ‘other means’? And why me? I mean, I know I’m irresistible, but I’ve never had someone go as far as you just to have a piece of me.” Dean tried for cocky, but he wasn’t sure it came out that way.

“Let’s just say that spirit wasn’t restless until last week.” She faced toward him again. “And as for why, I’m surprised you haven’t figured it all out yet. I mean, don’t you remember being here before Dean?” She laughed at the look of confusion on his face. “Although I’m sure that after a while, all these backwater towns look the same for you don’t they?”

She started to pace in front of him. Dean knew she’d much rather be circling him, but with his back to the wall as it was, she had to settle for pacing where he could see her. “You hunters are all the same. You come in, guns blazing, take out what you perceive to be the bad guy... or girl, and then ride back out. No consideration for who’s left behind.” She paused, standing directly in front of him. “Tell me Dean. Do the families you leave behind ever cross your mind once you ride out of town in that big black beast of a machine you call a car?”

With that she turned on her heel, walking out, the door closing with a resounding thud, the lock clicking into place. With her gone, Dean looked at the burn on his left arm. It was about 4 inches long, almost dead centre of the underside of his forearm. It was about half an inch thick, and looked deep. At least second degree, maybe even third degree Dean decided as he looked at it. The area of skin she had pulled off when she had removed the poker was an angry red, and Dean could see the slight traces that indicated an infection was starting.

“Great,” Dean muttered to himself.

At least now he could get up and move around. He stretched his legs out in front of him, pleased when the only pain was that of cramped muscles, stiff from being in the one position for too long. Carefully he slid his legs to the side of him, and pushed up with his right arm, so he was now sitting on his legs. Taking a deep breath, Dean slid his feet so he was sitting on the balls of them, and then, tucking his left arm protectively against his chest, pushed up with his legs until he was standing. The quick movement sent a wave of dizziness crashing through him, and he steadied himself against the wall for a minute before looking around his cell.

The sun was once again blazing through the high window, the only window in the whole room, Dean noticed. He walked over to it until he was standing directly underneath it. It stood about 5 feet about his head, so really didn’t give him much hope for escape that way. Not that he’d expected it - that would be too easy. He felt his pockets but everything was gone. Even his cell was gone, and he’d only just got it. Carefully Dean lowered himself feeling through the right leg of his jeans. He reached the top of his boot then carefully put his fingers down it. Damn it! His back up knife, the one he always kept in his boot, was gone too. They were cutting him off from the world, making him feel vulnerable. And Dean never felt more vulnerable than when he was without any sort of weapon.

He turned, and walked over to the table that was sitting against the opposite wall to where he had been chained up. It was bare, no candles, no matches, no pokers to light on fire and torture him with again. No weapons Dean thought to himself. The room was about 15 feet by 10 feet, with a roof, well above his head. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been here before, but couldn’t place his finger on why or when. The woman’s words kept rolling around and around his head, falling over each other in the rush that was his ticking brain.

Don’t you remember being here before Dean? Do you give any thought to the families you leave behind? You hunters are all the same. Do you know how many men we went through before we found you?

Missing men? Dean didn’t know anything about missing men. But then again, they’d been hunting a spirit. Dean leaned against the table and rubbed his eyes with his hand. Missing men, looking for me, spirit that wasn’t restless before last week... Dean was so focused on his thoughts that he didn’t hear the lock click, or the door open. He didn’t sense anyone else in the room until something hard and heavy collided with the back of his skull, and the darkness took him once again.

********

Sam jerked awake at the cheerful chirping of his laptop, letting him know he, once again, had a new email. Sam didn’t know what to expect. Another picture of Dean? The rules to the game? A hint maybe? Maybe it was one of his Stanford friends checking up on him.

Sam sighed and rolled out of bed - Dean’s bed he noticed as he stumbled past his own. He must have been unconsciously looking for a way to be close to his brother. He clicked on the blue flashing link, his hopes both raised and dashed by what he saw.

It was another email from whoever had Dean, and a corresponding photo.

Sammy, Sammy, Sammy.

Haven’t you seen the clues around town? How could you have missed them, they’re everywhere. Literally. Time’s running out Sammy, and so is your brother’s. Don’t feel too bad that you haven’t found him yet. It took me years to track him down. Hunters are so good at hiding their tracks. Unless they don’t know they’re now the hunted.

Happy hunting Sammy boy.

With trepidation Sam clicked on the link, opening the newest photo. Dean was once again chained to the wall, only this time his feet were also chained. His shirt was off, his torso a massive array of blues, purples, and greens. Sam noticed a few things he couldn’t make out, so with fear curling through his gut he made the photo larger.

Sam took one look at the photo and dashed to the bathroom, barely dropping to his knees in front of the toilet before bringing up the meagre contents of his stomach. After washing his face and rinsing his mouth, he stepped back into the room. He grabbed his cell and called Bobby.

“We need to find him. Right now!” Sam didn’t even give Bobby time to answer.

“We will Sam. I told you, I’m working on it.” Bobby’s gruff voice came across the line.

“Well you’re not working fast enough.” Sam knew he was being ridiculous, but couldn’t help himself. He heard Bobby sigh over the phone. He could clearly see the grizzled older hunter taking his cap off and running his hand through his hair, before replacing the cap.

“What happened Sam?”

“I got another photo. God Bobby, Dean... Dean...”

“Spit it out boy.” Bobby was getting frustrated with him.

“They burned him Bobby. He’s got...” Sam felt bile rising up his throat again, but forced it down. “He’s got these burns across his chest, and his arms, and he’s covered in so many bruises, and his ribs look broken, and oh god Bobby. I have to find him.” Desperation was starting to bite at the part of Sam’s brain that did the rational thinking. Why the hell couldn’t he find his brother damn it?!

“Sam, I want you to get out of that room. Get away from the research, it’s doing your head in.” Bobby had an idea. “See if you can talk to someone, maybe someone saw you brother. Head to the bar.” Bobby knew the younger hunter would only get himself worked up, and once that happened Sam wouldn’t be able to research.

Sam sighed. “Yeah ok. I’ll see what I turn up.” He knew he shouldn’t have yelled at Bobby. The older man was like family, and he didn’t have a whole lot of family left.

“Sam, we’ll find him. Ok. We will.”

“Thanks Bobby.” Sam closed his phone, grabbed his wallet, jacket and the keys to the impala. They felt like a foreign weight in his hands, and he felt even more out of place when he slid into the driver’s seat, rather than the passenger’s.

********

Sam sat outside the bar where he’d last seen Dean for 10 minutes before his hands stopped shaking enough to turn the ignition off, cutting the throaty growl of the impala. With a sigh he heaved his tall frame from the car, and slammed the door shut, the door giving its usual tired creak. As the weary hunter slowly walked towards the bar, he noticed flyers plastered on every telegraph pole, as far as he could see. Sam didn’t take much notice of them as he shoved his hands into his pockets, and hunched his shoulders, trying to keep the cool wind out.

Sam walked into the Bar where he’d left Dean 2 days before. The same bartender was there, wiping glasses. “Sorry buddy, we’re not open for another couple of hours yet.”

“I know.” Sam purposefully strode up to the bar, pulling out an ID as he went. “I’m with the FBI.” The man stopped what he was doing, his full attention on Sam. Sam knew he didn’t look the part. For one, he was dressed in his favourite brown hoodie, his ripped jeans, and his boots. Not exactly the current attire for the FBI, but he was too tired and wrung out to worry about that now.

“What brings the FBI to this little town?”

Sam let out a hollow laugh. “You’ve had 12 men go missing in the last 3 months. Doesn’t that sound a little strange to you?”

“What do you want to know?”

Sam pulled out a recent photo of Dean and slapped it onto the bar. “Have you seen this man recently?” The guy looked like he was about to shake his head. Sam lowered his voice. “He was in this bar the night before last, and I know you were here because you served me. So let me ask that question again. Have you seen him?”

The bartender put the cloth down and nodded his head toward the door that led out the back. “Luke, I’m heading out the back, can you watch out here for me?” Then without waiting for a reply, the man turned from the bar and headed through the doors, knowing Sam would follow him.

“I’m Steven,” he said as he shut the door. “And yeah, I saw the guy. Came in with you didn’t he.”

“Sam.” Sam said as he sat down on one of the chairs spread out around the room. “And yeah, he did.”

“And now he’s gone and got himself missing too huh?” Steven raised an eyebrow, as he crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned against a wall.

“Yeah. Look can you just tell me what you know, please.”

Steven couldn’t help but feel sorry for this kid. He looked completely worn out. “You’re not FBI are you kid.” Sam lifted his head abruptly. “You’re a hunter.” At Sam’s wide eyed look he shrugged. “Seen enough of ‘em in my time, I know what you look like. Although, you don’t give off the hunter vibe quite as strong as most. Now don’t get me wrong, I know you’re plenty dangerous, particularly when you’re real riled up. But you don’t have that vibe.”

Sam looked confused, so Steven continued. “You don’t stand to your full height, you don’t walk like you own the place, you don’t scream danger. Now that partner of yours... he’s full hunter isn’t he.” It was a statement not a question.

“He’s my brother.” Sam said with a resigned sigh. His head falling forward, forcing him to look up at Steven through his unruly bangs. The guy had him all figured out. “You a hunter too?”

Steven shook his head. “Nah, was just helped out by one about 15 years ago. Keep my eyes and ears out for anything strange, give the hunters somewhere to stay if they need it.”

Sam stood, held out his hand. “Sam Winchester.”

Steven whistled and shook his hand. “Wow, a real live Winchester brother standing in my bar. That’s something to write home about. You and your brother, you’re legends in the hunters world.”

Sam groaned. “Don’t tell Dean that.” Something nagged at Sam’s brain. “Hang on a second,” and without giving Steven time to think, Sam was racing out of the bar outside to the street, coming to a stop in front of a telegraph pole. There, stuck to it at general eye height, was a poster. Nothing special except the words. I GOT HIM, I FINALLY FOUND HIM was emblazoned all over the paper, in many different colours, in many different fonts. Haven’t you seen the clues around town? How could you have missed them, they’re everywhere. Suddenly the words from the email made sense.

Sam raced back inside, brandishing the poster as if it were a trophy. “Who’s been putting these up?” Sam asked Steven. “Who did it?”

Sam didn’t fail to notice the colour leeching from Steven’s face as he regarded the piece of paper. “Boy, your brother’s in big trouble.”

Retribution and Breaking Points

2009-09-16T22:46:30Z

TITLE: Retribution and Breaking Points
RATING: M
CHAPTER: 1/5
WORD COUNT: This chapter: 2292, Whole Story: 14748
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them, only playing with them
SUMMARY: When A Drink and a pool game turn into retribution, Sam must race against time to find his brother.

A/N: Credit to CalUK. It seems we shared a muse on this idea, and at the same time. If anyone wants to read, I recomment you read State of Grace. Thanks so much about letting me post this Cal

Dean woke slowly, his head pounding, his whole body aching. His mind was fuzzy, and as he opened his eyes, the glare coming in from the high window nearly blinded him. He’d never had a hangover this bad before. He took a deep breath and, slowly and carefully, tried opening them again. The sun still burned his eyes, but not nearly as bad as it had before. His mouth felt like something had crawled in it and died, and the room was doing its own version of a merry go round. Dean blinked a few times, his eyes slowly adjusting to the light in the room. He couldn’t remember drinking enough to feel this bad the morning after and he’d had a few nasty hangovers. Dean turned his mind back to last night, trying to remember what led him to being in such a sorry state. He couldn’t remember past a game of pool and a woman. A tall, thin, brunette with endless legs, encased in a tight black leather mini skirt, and a shirt low enough that it should probably be illegal. He remembered having a total of 2 beers. Not nearly enough to get him into the sad state he was in.

As his brain began to function, he realised he was sitting on a stone floor, the cold leeching into his ass, and for some reason his hands were numb, and his shoulders were aching. Dean opened his eyes, when had I shut them? and looked around the room.

“Shit!”

The cold, dark room looked like a cellar. He realised his wrists were chained to the wall, above his head. That explains the aching shoulders. A noise to his right caught his attention. The door creaked open and the woman from last night walked in, looking, for all intents and purposes, like she owned the place. This time she was wearing a pair of low riding jeans, and a black singlet.

“Well hello Dean.” she purred, coming to kneel in front of him, one long manicured nail running along his jaw, scratching at his skin, forcing him to turn his head and look at her. The look he shot her was one of pure disgust, his brilliant green eyes on fire as he conveyed his contempt for her.

“Now now, don’t be like that. I just want to play Dean. I mean, isn’t that what you were looking for last night. Just a little fun, play some games. Admittedly, what I have in mind probably isn’t what you were thinking, but it’s a game just the same.”

She stood, a wicked smile crossing her sensuous lips, as she ran a hand through his short, dirty blonde hair. He roughly pulled his head from her grip, sending it crashing into the wall behind him. That just served to piss him off even more. Now, not only did he have a slowly diminishing headache from whatever she slipped him to drug him, he now had the equivalent to every good 80’s rock band drummer pounding on his brain, out of sync, and as loud as they could.

“You know, the jeans make you look less like a slut than that mini skirt.” Dean said a grin on his face. A quick, hard slap wiped that from his face immediately.

“We’re going to play a game Dean. And if you want to be found alive, you’ll play by the rules. Or maybe we’ll up the ante on both your life, and precious little Sammy’s. What do you say Dean? Going to play nice?”

She noticed, with pleasure, the fear that crossed Dean’s eyes at the thought of something happening to Sam, but it was quickly shut out when the walls came up.

“Go to Hell.” Dean spat out slowly. His brash, obnoxious, cocky defence system kicking in, as it always did when he felt threatened.

The woman grinned. How she loved when her victims tried to cover the fear they felt. “We’re going to have so much fun Dean. Now it’s time to let Sammy in on it.”

Dean struggled against the chains holding him to the wall. No-one, no-one was allowed to threaten Sam. A string of filth, enough to make a sailor blush, fell from his lips and he called her every name under the sun, and a few he came up with, spur of the moment. Clearly that pissed her off. Without warning her hand flew towards him, and her long fingers wrapped themselves around his throat, cutting off his air. She stared at him, through him, and held on for what seemed like an eternity, as Dean’s struggles slowed, and dark spots danced across his line of sight. Only when his eyes started to lose focus, and his futile struggles stopped, did she release her hold. She watched him for a minute more, before she stepped away from him, and slammed the big, wooden door shut. He heard a lock click, and her heels click over the stone floor, and what sounded like a set of stairs. When they died away Dean let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding in. He let his head drop back, carefully, against the stone wall at his back.

“God, I hope you realise something’s wrong kiddo. I really do.”

********

This is Dean, leave a message.

“Damn it Dean!” Sam flicked his cell shut and tossed it onto the bed. That was the 10^th time this hour that Sam had tried to call Dean, getting his voice mail every time. Sam was pacing back and forward across the motel room’s ratty carpet. He was going out of his mind. Dean should have come back by now. At the very least he should have called. It just wasn’t like Dean not to make contact. In fact, it was Dean’s ultimate rule – always stay in contact. Sam sighed as he sat on the bed, and ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair. He should have known something was wrong last night. Dean always, always, calls, or at least texts, if he’s staying the night elsewhere. Last night, nothing. No phone call, no text message. Nothing. Sam put it down to a night on the booze, and Dean finding some willing woman who took him back to her place. Against his better judgement, he ignored the niggling in his gut, the instinct that something wasn’t quite right and opted for a shower and some rest. He was still recovering from the Wendigo attack; his ribs still a little tender. He ignored his gut instinct, telling himself that Dean was a big boy and he could look after himself, conveniently forgetting that Dean tended to attract trouble like a moth to a flame.

45 minutes later and Sam was ready to pull his hair out. Just as he reached again for his cell to phone Bobby, his laptop beeped, indicating a new email. He quickly made his way over to the table, and clicked on the message. What he saw made his stomach revolt.

Hey Sammy,
Time for a little game. The prize.... your brother’s life. The rules...... you’ll have to figure out along the way. Break them, we break Dean. Physically, mentally, it really doesn’t matter. You have 2 weeks to work out the game, 2 weeks to find him. Whether he’s alive, and in one piece when you find him, is up to you.
Let the game begin.

Under the message was a picture. There, chained to a wall, was Dean. He didn’t look too busted up, just out of it, which was a relief to Sam.

For the next 30 minutes, all Sam could do was re-read the message, going over and over it. Eventually his phone shook him out of his daze.

“Dean?” he said hopefully.

“Sam? It’s Bobby.” Bobby’s familiar gruff voice came over the line.

Sam sighed. “Hey, Bobby. What’s up?” How was it the older hunter, almost a substitute father for them, always knew when he was needed?

“Listen, I’ve got a job for you boys. It’s in...”Ok, maybe not.

Sam cut the other man off “Can’t right now Bobby. Kinda have a job of my own.”

“What is it? Maybe it’s the same one.”

Sam ran a hand through his hair again, pushing the damp bangs from his eyes. “Dean’s missing. I left him at the bar last night, with a pool game, and he’s not back yet.”

“Sam...” Bobby tried to cut in, but the boy wouldn’t listen

“And I just got this email. It’s got a picture of Dean, chained to a wall, and a...”

“A letter right. Something about a game.”

Sam rubbed a hand across his eyes. Ok, so maybe Bobby had a point. “I have to find him Bobby.”

“Sam, listen to me. 12 men, matching Dean’s general description have gone missing in that town over the last 3 months. Some of them have been found. None of them alive.” Bobby waited, hoping that Sam took the hint.

“I have to find him Bobby. I can’t lose him.” Sam’s voice hitched, and broke a little. He understood Bobby’s point – that they may not find Dean alive this time. But it wasn’t happening, Dean wasn’t about to become so statistic. This was Sam doing the tracking, the hunting, and he wouldn’t stop until Dean was back, breathing, and in one piece.

Bobby sighed as he realised that Sam had concentrated on the wrong part of his spiel. But, the fear for his brother’s life might work just as well. “I know Sam. I’ll see what I can find here, but in the meantime you back track on Dean’s movements. Work out where he’s been, who he’s spoken to, who he flirted with. Maybe he pissed off some girl’s boyfriend. Maybe this thing hasn’t got him.”

“Thanks Bobby. I’ll let you know if I turn up anything.”

“And Sam. Be careful ok.” Bobby cautioned before he disconnected the call.

Sam closed the phone. Research. He could do this. Hunt research had been his job since he was 10 years old. Ok, so patterns were Dean’s thing, but he could do the initial research. First things first though; coffee.

Sam grabbed his jacket and the room key, his eyes lingering on Dean’s leather jacket.

“I’ll find you Dean, just hang on for me.”

With that he walked out the door, in search of enough caffeine to keep him in that room for as long as it takes to find where whoever has Dean is hiding him.

********

Dean’s cell phone ringing pulled him back to consciousness. His eyes took in his surroundings. Nothing had changed, except that the light coming in from the high window was from the moon, not the sun. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw her there; sitting on what looked like a wine barrel, just watching him. He wasn’t sure if she was trying to figure him out, or bore holes into him.

“Now Dean. Is that any way to treat a lady?” she said as she slid off the barrel, and walked over to him. Every click of her high heels like a bomb exploding in his head.

“You’re no lady. I don’t know what you are, but I guarantee you ain’t no lady.” Dean spat, his heard turning to face away from her.

She grabbed his jaw, forcefully turning him to face her. Dean couldn’t help the wince as her nails brushed the raw skin of his cheek, but he held back on the hiss that threatened to escape.

“I let Sammy know the game’s on. We’re giving him 2 weeks to find you. But we can have a little fun in the process.”

“You leave Sam out of this you demented bitch!” Dean screamed at her, jerking the chains holding his arms above his head as she walked away from him, over to a table he hadn’t noticed before. She struck a match, and lit 4 tall, white, pillar candles.

“So Dean, what’s your take on fire?” she said with a smile in her voice.

Dean stopped, the question throwing him. He didn’t necessarily like fire, he associated it with evil, and taking things away in the middle of the night. He wasn’t scared of it though.

“Fire’s kind of... mesmerising don’t you think?” she asked as she turned around, a fire poker held in one hand, a candle in the other. She held the fire poker in the flame, the cool, black metal become red hot at it absorbed the heat. Dean couldn’t help staring at the flame as she walked towards him.

“Not sure it’s so mesmerising now though.” she said as she pressed the now hot poker onto the exposed skin on his left arm. As much as he tried not to Dean couldn’t help but scream in with the pain. He tried to pull his arm away from the searing heat but that only served to make her grin wider. He let out a muffled yell as she pulled it away, pulling some skin with it.

“See you tomorrow love.” she said as she bent down and kissed the top of his head. She walked over to the table, resting the poker on it, before leaving the room. Only when he’d heard the lock click and the tap of her heels fade away did Dean let his head drop and the tears come.

“Hurry up Sammy. Use that brain of yours and get me the hell out of here."

Hi

2009-09-11T12:52:35Z

I've been a lurker for a while so I thought I should finally post something about me. So here we go:

Name: Danni
Age: 22
Height: 173cm or for the imperical people 5'8
Weight: 81kg or 178 lbs
Clothing size: Aus 12-14, US 10-12
Goal weight: 65kg or 143 lbs.

Am currently seeing a personal trainer twice a week, and am supposed to be using the gym on a third day and running every second day, but my shifts at work change from day to day, anthing from morning shifts (starting at 5am) to day/night shifts (finishing at 11pm) so my exercise has been all over the place. My eathing has kinda sucked too.

I'm going to have to change my habits slowly as I can only cope with changing one thing at a time. I've tried to do too many things at once before, and it worked, for about a week, then everything started going back to the way it was before.

So, my new goal (starting Monday) is to cut the junk food. No more crisps, chocolate, muffins, or candy. I don't need it, and I think my body is starting to reject it.

Wish me luck

Danni xo

Random Quizzes

2009-09-06T14:06:07Z

Ok, so I should be asleep, but I think I'm past tired. So, I was going through my facebook and LJ and myspace pages and I found heaps of questionnaires and thought I'd complete them. Feel free to copy and post your own answers

20 Random facts

1. I am the only family member I know that has green eyes. Throwback gene maybe? Not complaining but it's so weird when everyone else has blue or brown eyes. No-one even has hazel eyes!

2. My real name is Danielle, although I usually shorten it to Danni or Dani. That way no-one can spell it wrong. The majority of people can't get 1 out of 3 of my names right. Is Danielle Maree Currie that hard to spell?

3. I call myself Bubbles759 on here because Bubbles is my nickname from a uni friend. She got it off Finding Nemo. Not sure if that means she thinks I'm as crazy as the fish obsessed with the bubbles or she thinks I'm a big kid because I love, love, LOVE that movie.

4. I have one younger sibling and I'm glad she's the only one I've got. Anymore people like us and I think the world would implode.

5. I have spent the last 5 years getting an Arts/Law degree and now I don't think I'm going to use it.

6. I'm obsessed with books. Of almost any genre from auto-biographies, to history, from sci fi/horror (e.g. Stephen King) to mysteries.

7. I have a very odd movie collection. I love the X-men and Transformer movies. I have horror movies, I have kids movies, I have sci-fi movies. I have very few girly/romantic comedies. It is something I'm slowly fixing. I just don't find that many rom-coms that good with the exception of P.S I love you and Fools Gold.

8. I don't understand the obsession with Sex and the City!

9. I have the travel bug. I've been to Japan and the USA. I really want to explore Europe, meeting the locals, enjoying the festivals. I want to work in Canada and the UK. I want to ski in New Zealand. I want to explore Peru, Ancient Egypt and Ancent Rome.

10. I don't understand how people can hate each other so much! Is it really a life or death situation of someone doesn't agree with you?

11. My sister came home one year in high school and told us she was one of the odd ones in her class because our parents are still together. If being in the majority means having divorced parent's I don't want in.

12. I love learning, but only about things that interest me. Maybe that's why I almost failed 2 unit math in high school.

13. The law is stupid. It doesn't move fast enough. It doesn't keep up with contemporary society. It needs to move into the 21^st Century with the rest of us.

14. I want to help people. I want to get my masters in Personal Training, and use it and my psychology degree to help people.

15. I want to ge a degree in nutrition, exercise physiology, medicine, and history.

16. I think you can learn so much about the here and now by studying the past. If we learn from the past, we shouldn't be able to recreate their mistakes.

17. I live my life by music. My music collection is one of my most valued possessions. It's the fastest way for me to connect with my emotions. It calms me down, pumps me up, allows me to run that bit further, go that bit harder, write another 500 words for my assignment. I have every kind of music imaginable from pop to country, classic rock to blues, jazz to instrumental, new hits to 80's and soundtrack music. If you want it chances are I have it, or can get it for you.

18. I have to be artistic in some way; music, drawing, writing, dancing. If I'm not being artistic in some way, I'm not being me.

19. I can't sit still. I'm always moving, always doing something. If I'm still, there's something wrong.

20. I'm an Ausse, loud and proud, and no matter where I go, or where I live, this will always be home.

Song Meme

List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they're not any good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying now, shaping your spring.

Here we go:

Burn – Jessica Mauboy
I Do Not Hook Up – Kelly Clarkson
Before the Worst – The Script
On The Inside – Daughtry
Still Holding Out For You – Shedaisy
Just A Dream – Carrie Underwood
Feels Like Whoa – Wes Carr

Random Questions

When were you happiest?

University. Meeting new friends that challenged me and made me into who I am today, learning new things, and learning about me.

What is your earliest memory?

Running around with my dog and my little sister in the park that was across the road from the house we lived in at the time

Which living person do you most admire?

My mum. She's the strongest person I know, and she doesn't let anyone bhange who she is or what she believes in

What was your most embarrassing moment?

Saying something without thinking in front of all my friends. They agreed with me but couln't believe I'd said it.

What is your most treasured possession?

Photos of friends and family.

What would your super power be?

Telekenesis

What makes you depressed?

The way of the world at the moment

What do you most dislike about your appearance?

The extra weight I'm carrying. I'm working on losing it!

Do you like your name?

It doesn't really bother me. What annoys me is that no-one can spell it.

What is your most unappealing habit?

Impatience

What is your favorite book?

Changes all the time

Who would you invite to your dream dinner party?

My family, my grandfather that died when I was really young and don't remember, Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, Johnny Depp, Hugh Jackman, Heath Ledger, Stephen King, Leonardo Da Vinci, George Strait

What is the worst thing anyone's said to you?

A lot of things when I was bullied in High School

What is the worst job you've done?

The one I'm currently in. It pays the bills but that's about it. I don't like coming home looking like I've been in a fight (scratches and cuts and burns and bruises over my arms, legs and hands) every day

What is your guiltiest pleasure?

Chocolate, a good book/movie and a long, hot bath

What do you owe your parents?

Everything. They taught me to be me, no matter what anyone else says, and that I can do anything I want

To whom would you most like to say sorry and why?

No-one. I apologise when I've done something wrong and then it's in the past

What or who is the greatest love of your life?

My friends and family.

What was the best kiss of your life?

When I was inlove

Which living person do you most despise, and why?

Not particularly one single person, but I dispise people trying to push religion on me, one sided views and self centred people

What has been your biggest disappointment?

Not finishing my degree on time, and realising I've spent 5 years at uni doing something I will probably never use.

What was your dream job as a child. Is it still the same?

Actor, singer, dance. While I would still love to do these things, I'm a little more realistic now days

If you could edit your past, what would you change?

Nothing. Then I would change who I am now

If you could go back in time, where would you go?

To Ancient Egypt, or Rome

When did you last cry, and why?

A few months ago. I had a migraine and every little noise, movement of light made me feel like I was going to be sick

What is the closest you've come to death?

Don't think I have

What single thing would improve the quality of your life?

Money

What keeps you awake at night?

Not much, uni work mainly

What song would you like played at your funeral?

Never really thought about it

Where would you most like to be right now?

In a house/apartment I owned with my friends

What is your greatest fear?

Losing friends or family

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?

Lack of time management

What trait do you deplore most in others?

Self centredness

Do you believe in capital punishment?

No, noone has the right to take away someone elses life

What do you consider to be the most over-rated virtue?

Anything can be overrated

What would your Daemon (animal manifestation of your soul) be?

White Tiger

Who would play you in the film of your life?

Never thought about i

What does love feel like?

A rollercoaster

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?

Hi or Hey

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Working in the USA for 3 months on my own

What is the most important lesson life has taught you?

Things happen for a reason

Tell us a secret.

I can sing

99 Truths...

1. Last beverage? water
2. Last phone call? Home
3. Last text message? James
4. Last song you listened to? Before the Worst – The Script
5. Last time you cried? A few months ago

HAVE YOU EVER:
6. Dated someone twice? no
7. Been cheated on? not that i know of
9. Lost someone special?? Yes, but not completely
10. Been depressed?? Yes
11. Been drunk? yes

THREE FAVORITE COLORS:
12. green
13. blue
14. red

THIS YEAR HAVE YOU:
15. Made new friends ? yes
16. Fallen out of love ? no
17. Laughed until you cried ? yes
18. Met someone who changed you? no
19. Found out who your true friends were? yes
20. Found out someone was talking about you? no
21. Kissed anyone on your friend's list? yes
22. How many people on your friends list do you know in real life? All of them (facebook)
23. How many kids do you want to have? 2 or 3
24. Do you have any pets ? No :(
25. Do you want to change your name? nope
26. What did you do for your last birthday? nothing
27. What time did you wake up today ? 5.20am
28. What were you doing at midnight last night? reading
29. Name something you CANNOT wait for ? to go overseas again
30. Last time you saw your father? tonight
31.What is one thing you wish you could change about your life ? I wish I had more money
32. What are you listening to right now? Ipod on shuffle
33. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom ? Yes... lots of them
34. What's getting on your nerves right now? work
35. Changed someone? possibly
36. Whats your real name? Danielle Maree Currie
37. Relationship Status? Single
38. Zodiac sign--> Taurus
39. Male or female? Female
40. Elementary? Kandos Public, Muswellbrook Public
41. Middle School ?
42. High school ? Muswellbrook high
43. Hair color? Strawberry blonde
44. Long or short ? long
45. Height? 5'8
46. Do you have a crush on someone? no
47. What do you like about yourself? eyes
48. Piercings ? ears
49. Tattoos ? Thinking about it
50. Righty or lefty ? righty

FIRSTS :
51. First surgery ? Boob reduction
52. First piercing ? ears
53. First tattoo—> stay tuned
54. First best friend -- Donna
55. First sport you joined ? Tennis, I was 4
56. First pet? Dog, Mutley
57. First vacation remembered - ? Somewhere on the beach
58. First concert? Human Nature
59. First crush? A boy I went to school with
60. First alcohol drink—> dad used to give me sips of his beer when i was really little

RIGHT NOW:
61. Eating? no
62. Drinking? no
63. I'm about to? Post this then go to bed
64. where are you?? home
65. Waiting for? Sleep to come to me

YOUR FUTURE :
66. Want kids? yes
67. Want to get married? yea
68. Careers in mind? Personal trainer, nutritionist, psychologist,

WHICH IS BETTER WITH THE OPPOSITE SEX?
69. Lips or eyes ? eyes
70. hugs or kissis ? hugs
71. Shorter or taller ? taller
72. Older or Younger ? doesnt matter
73. Romantic or spontaneous ? both
74. Nice stomach or nice arms? Stomach
75. Tattoos or piercings—> Tattoos
76. Sensitive or loud ? both...at the right times ;)
77. Hook-up or relationship ? Relationship
78. Trouble maker or hesitant? needs to be trouble

HAVE YOU EVER :
79. Kissed a stranger? Yes
80. Drank hard liquor? yes
81. Lost glasses/contacts? nope
82. Sex on first date? no
83. Broken someone's heart? Not that I know of
84. Had your own heart broken ? yes
85. Been arrested?--> nope
86. Turned someone down ? yes
87. Cried when someone died ? yes
88. Liked a friend that is a girl? not for a full on relationship...but who hasnt had drunken moments with their gals xx i LOVE them all

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:
89. Yourself ? Yes
90. Miracles ? Yes
91. Love at first sight ? no
92. Heaven ? yes
93. Santa Claus ? of course...why what have u heard ;)
94. Kissing on the first date? yes
95. Angels ? Yes

ANSWER TRUTHFULLY:
96. Is there one person you want to be with right now? no
97. Had more than one boyfriend/girlfriend at one time? ? no
98. Do you believe its possible to remain faithful forever? yes
99. What's the one thing you cannot live without? music

25 Random Facts:

1. I'm easily hurt, although I try not to show it
2. I have 4 piles of books I'm yet to read sitting on my bedside table crying out to me
3. I have champagne taste but a beer budget... for everything
4. My sister and I are going to travel the US together when we have enough money
5. My HECS debt (university) would be enough for a down payment on a house worth over half a million dollars
6. I miss my friends
7. I'm restless by nature, but love nothing better than having the whole day to myself to pamper myself and do whatever I want with no interruptions
8. I am a strawberry blonde by nature, but went fully blonde and can't wait for my natural colour to come back
9. Love my eyes the most of all my figure, followed closely by my figure. I'm an hourglass, it's just a little bigger than I'd like it to be at the moment
10. My sister is 10cm shorter than me, and is forever destined to be the shortest in the family
11. I couldn't live without my computer
12. I couldn't live without my music
13. I continuously carry pen and paper with me, you never know when an idea might hit
14. I always carry a camera with me
15. My friends think my bag is like that in Mary Poppins, things just keep coming out of it
16. I can never find what I want when I need it, but the second I don't need it anymore, it's the first thing I'll find
17. I love all the songs on my Ipod, but only 1 in every 15 or so when it's on shuffle
18. I'm applying to get my Masters in Personal Training
19. I want to set up my own personal training business
20. I can't wait to move to Sydney next year
21. When you see them all the time you forget how magical the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House are until you see them of a night
22. My football team needs to win this weekend
23. I can't wait to get a puppy of my own, I want a husky, Labrador or German Shepard, rottweiler
24. My birth stone is the same for my month and my astrological sign (Emerald)
25. I really need to sleep

.I promise the next post will actually be about what's going on.

Nighty night

D!

What a painful few months!

2009-07-24T11:28:01Z

I cannot believe that it's been abiut 2 months since I updated here. And I promised myself that I would try to update every week, every 2nd at most. Shame, shame.

It's been a complete roller coaster 2 months, that I can confidently say. And, through the ups and the major downs, I have come to a few realisations. And, unfortunately, as it always seems to be, you need to get to the lows before you can get to the highs and the realisations. If only you could do it without the lows.

Lets start off 2 months ago, where I left off. In that time I have sat exams, handed in final assignments, got results back, worked practically non stop, killed my phone, hurt myself, ruined a total of 9 mud cakes, had a breakdown, decided on a new course for the immediate future, started a new 'diet', and lost 3.5kg (or about 8lbs) and come to grips with a few things in my life.

So I handed in my last assignment the week before exmas started, and I felt pretty good about it. Until I got my marks back. It was a 'you must pass this assignment or fail the unit no matter your overall marks' so I failed the unit despite having a pass mark overall. However, my lecturer was kind enough to allow me to resit the unit this semester, even though it was full, and allow me to use the (very good) practical mark from last semester in this semester. I just have to wait on the student centre to actually enroll me in it. If it's not done on Monday I may just head to the uni and stand in line until they do it. I need to complete this unit this semester.

Then, I thought I had done fairly well in my exams. Turns out I hadn't done as well as I thought I had. I failed every unit. Cue mental breakdown. I was a big, blubbering mess in front of my mum and my sister and I didn't know what to do. I am so close. If everything had of gone to plan I would only have this last 6 months to go and I would be graduating in March. Now everything's a mess and I didnt know where to start to pick up the pieces. I can't even be overly dramatic and say that my dreams were in ruins because law isn't even my dream anymore. I don't know what I want to study, I don't know what I want to be, I don't even know who I want to be.

Right now I'm just a mess and I don't know where to start to pick myself up again, and get back on the horse. When you see everyone around you getting good marks, getting engaged or married, buying their houses and having a destination in mind, knowing exactly where they want to be and what they want to do, and you feel like you're being left on the side of the road with a map that shows you nothing and goes nowhere, it sucks. I just feel like I'm being left on the side of the road while everyone drives off into their sunset.

So, I was a mess for about 2 days. I couldn't sleep that Friday night, and so when I went to work on Saturday morning (had to start at 5am) my eyes were so puffy I looked as if someone had punched me (minus the bruises) and everytime someone asked me what happened I felt like bursting into tears. I didn't though, and now that I've had some time to think about it, I think it's probably a good thing.

I think it's possibly a good thin gI had the breakdown too. I tend to keep things bottled up and then explode, and I think this was probably as good a time as any to get everything out in the open. It gave me time to think, and sort out everything in my own head, it is allowing me to think about what I want and not what everyone else thinks I should want.

After much consideration, and some much needed time to think, I have decided on a plan of action, and I am quite happy about it.

Firstly: I am only doing 2 compulsory units this semester. I can work with that. I could do more, but I want to have some time to myself, and this will get two of the most horrible units out of the way.

Secondly: I have also told work that I am cutting back the hours I am available to work. I want to only work 3 days a week, and if that's 3 full days, or 3 days of 3 hour shifts, then that's up to them. Last semester I was working, some weeks, almost full time hours, and full time work and full time study don't mix well. At least not with me. There are some people out there who can work and study full time, but I can't. I haven't learned the art of juggling to that extent yet.

Thirdly: I have planned to take next year off. I have come to the conclusion that I am better to take the year off and get my head together, than struggle through another year. A friend of mine suggested taking one unit a semester to keep my head in the game, but I think I need a clean break. I need time to get my head out of the books and decide what it is I want to do, and not what everyone else wants me to do. I need to have my own expectations of myself, and not just everyone else's expectations of me. I need to decide where I want to go from here.

I have spoken to a few different friends and I may be moving to Sydney at the end of the year, or Brisbane. A few uni friends are looking at heading to Sydney and I very much want to move in with them because we get along really well and I think we could handle living together. At the same time I also have a friend in Brisbane who is living with her boyfriend, but it's not constructive to her study, so she'd willing to move out of his place and get a place with me, so I have a few options.

I am also looking at heading back overseas. The company I traveled with to the States have a new group of trips you can take, including a 3 country work one. You start in the US summer in a camp, then onto the UK for a Winter working in a pub before heading back to Canada to work in a Summer camp. You can also change the order between the UK and Canada. It sounds awesome and I would really like to see Canada and the UK, and would love to head back to the States and see parts I didn't get to see last time. I also have a friend in Cnadda (in Quebec) who is always at me to come visit and I would love to see her. I haven't seen her for nearly 3 years. Oh how time flies.

But the best bit is that I HAVE TIME!!! I don't feel like I'm on a deadline anymore. I always pressured myself to do the double degree in the 5 years that it's set out in, to go to College of Law and get my PLT, then move into practice, even though by the end of last year I knew that I didn't really want ot go into law in any way, shape or form.

I have also worked practically non stop since exams ended. This last 3 weeks I have easily hit the 38 hours, and while my bank balance is greatful for it, my feet were aching by the time I got home on Monday morning. I had just worked 7 days straight and really needed a break. Don't have a shift til tomorrow morning. YAY!!!

However, this working so much does have a downside. I took the skin off the back of my right ankle and halfway up my calf on a trolley, and then proceeded to runi 9 mudcakes in less than 10 minutes. The first one wasn't exactly my fault. It was still too hot in the middle so when I tried to turn it upside down to dunk it in the icing (ganash), it fell apart. The other 8 though... I managed to ice them all and get them back on the tray, but when I went to put them on the rack (trolley thing) I knockec the tray on the edge of the rack and upended them. They all hit the floor, and none were salvageable. So, that was clearly the time my brain and body were saying 'enough is enough. We need sleep!' If only I didn't have another 3 days of work to go before I could just sleep.

My phone decided to take a swim in my handbag though, and I needed a new one. I hadn't put the cap back on my water bottle properly, and I always put it in my bag when I get out of the gym, and by the time I got home, there was enough water in the bottom of my bag to screw my phone, and i needed to buy a new one. Not that it bothered me too much, I was on the lookout for a new one, but I lost all my numbers, so I'm in the process of getting them all back.

On to weight loss news...

I am cancelling my gym membership. WIth my lesser hours at work, I can't afford it, and I haven't really been going so I can't justify paying for it. I have DVD's at home I can use, and I can go for a walk/run. I was doing that at uni last year, so I have no excuse not to do it at home. Especially when my little sister goes back to uni on Sunday.

I am doing the kick-start diet with mum and I feel great. I have lost about 3.5kg, (8lbs) according to my bathroom scales and I actually feel better about myself. I haven't cheated, and I'm not hungry. I am a little over soup, but the hardest days are over. I have made it through 5 of the 7 days.

I am now a solid 14 (US 10-12) in jeans. I can walk into a store (as long as it's not something like a surf shop with it's tiny sizes, not that I was in them much before I put on the weight), pull a pair of pants off the rack and know that they will fit, or be too loose if they are a 14. I bought 3 pairs of soft trackpants/yoga pants. 2 of them are size 12's, and one is a size 14!!! I'm so excited. I bought a pair of jeans from Rockmans tonight, a size 14, but I didn't have to struggle to get them on. They just slipped on without doing the 'jeans dance', and they don't bite into my waist!!! (Does happy dance)

This last week I've been really good with my food, because I've been doing the kick start diet. However, the few weeks before that... completely off track. Chocolate and crisps galore. I feel sick just thinking about it.

I think my food choices have to do with work. Now I know that’s an excuse and not a reason, but I do think it has something to do with it. That and the crazy hours I’ve been working. I have worked almost every day for 2 weeks. And when I get some time off it’s not even the 2 days so I can pretend it’s a weekend. No, it’s something stupid like a Wednesday and a Friday (like it was this week), or Monday and a Thursday (like it was last week). Now, again, I know that this is an excuse and I don’t have to eat things just because of my work schedule or where I work. I can do better and I have done better, but this last 2 weeks everything seems to have gone out the window.

I consider myself lucky that I don’t generally get cravings. Not even at that time of the month. I generally never get cravings for carbs, or chocolate or ice cream, and I am thanking my pill for that, particularly at ttom. I know from experience that when I am on it I don’t get cravings, and I hadn’t noticed it until I ran out one month, and had cravings for everything. Now I think myself luck for it.

However, I am one of those people that, if I see something, or I know it’s there, I have to eat it. I don’t have an issue with something if it’s not within easy reach. I don’t drive to the supermarket just to buy some chips, I don’t drive to Macca’s for a Big Mac, (not that I eat Big Mac’s but you get the point).

However, working at Woolies undermines my self control. As you would all know, you have to walk past the “bad” things to get to the checkouts and this is where my problem lies, unless I’m working in the Bakehouse. Then my willpower leaves the second I get there. I can plan, in my head, what I’m going to have for lunch etc, before my lunch break. Then I will go and get myself a bread roll, and some lite ham or turkey, and some low fat cheese from the deli. However, walking to the checkouts has seen me invariably walk into the confectionary isle, and sometimes the chips isle, (on bad nights like one last week, both isles). This completely undermines any healthy thing I am eating.

If I’m in the Bakehouse first thing of a morning (we generally start at 5am) it’s very hard to resist the smell of freshly baked bread, bread rolls, pastries, etc. Even harder once we get to the muffins, cakes and biscuits. Not that I have a problem with the biscuits and the donuts. I don’t eat donuts and I don’t particularly like biscuits (unless it’s the choc chip or m&m or rock cake batter). But I have a problem with the bread rolls. More specifically, the cheese and bacon bread rolls.

And lately I have been drinking soda. I don’t even particularly like soda. We have it in the house because dad takes some to work, and sometimes you just need something other than water to quench your thirst. But lately I’ve been drinking a lot of it. And it’s not even Diet Coke, or Coke Zero! It’s the fully sugared, fully caffeined, variety. AND I DON’T EVEN LIKE COKE! I think it has to do with the vending machine.

Now, the vending machine has always been in the lunch room. Has always had cans of soda for $1. BUT it has always sat against the wall opposite the meeting room and I always sat with my back to it, or, side on to it. Therefore it never bugged me. Now that the entire store is being refurbished and the back area, including the lunch room and managers, meeting rooms and cash office, have all been moved, it vending machine has moved too. TO RIGHT OPPOSITE WHERE I ALWAYS SIT, ACROSS THE ROOM FROM ME!!!! So my will power has degraded too. Now I seem to have a can with every ‘work’ meal.

On the positive, I have had that many shifts in the deli and bakehouse that I have been continually on my feet and moving around so that has to be good for something right???

I'm considering posting my Supernatural stories on the supernatural_fic community on lj. I'm almost finished Picking up the Pieces, and I'll ask CalUK if she minds me posting it there. Not sure if she posted her similar story there or not. I'm thinking it will give me some more exposure, and some more people to critic my work. Not that I think supernaturalville doesn't critic enough, but some different points of view would be nice. Maybe start with Retribution and Breaking Points and see how I go. It's one the the stories I'm most proud of. We'll see how I go.

So, on the positive, things are looking up. I am going to finish my 2 compulsory units and get them out of the way. Then move out of home, either Brisy or Sydney with some friends, save my money, then head back overseas. Where, I'm not too sure yet. There's so much of the world I want to see. I can't wait til the end of the semester and I can finally start to see a change in everything.

NIght

Danni xo

Question

2009-05-18T05:18:12Z

ATTENTION ALL SUPERNATURAL FANS:

Has anyone noticed inthe finale that the painting on the wall in 'Heaven's Greenroom," of Lucifer and Michael is the same one that is in the Church in Houses of the Holy in Season 2. Just a thought but maybe Dean has something to do with the angels other than just being pulled out of Hell. Maybe he's 'chosen' for a different reason.

Opinions anyone?.

OH MY GOD!!!

2009-05-09T13:55:05Z

I read a quote the other day that said "Good films unlock your imagination." Well I have to say Supernatural has done that. And I know it's a TV show, not a film, but I think you get what I mean.

This is the first show that I have ever really found myself so completely invested in. A show that I have become borderline obsessed with, written fan fiction for, thought up storylines for, and found myself so invested in the characters like they are real people. I have never felt the need to analyse a show the way I have for this one. I have never felt my heart tear up and break so many times in the course of a whole TV show, let alone the way the number of times my heart broke in this episode, completely forgetting the times it has this season.

How can they leave us there? There is no resoluteion. There is ALWAYS a resolution! I need my resolution! I'm not too sure how our boys can come back from this. BUT, I ahve faith in Kripke and co, that there will be a resolution. Whether it's one we want to see, and whether we see it by the end of the next episode I'm not too sure on.

I was amazed, as always, at the acting of both Jared and Jensen. I have long been a fan of Jensen's and always thought he was an incredible actor, but this one really opened my eyes to Jared. Not to say that I haven't appreciated his acting, he almost tore my heart out in Heart, but this episode, to see him shaking and hallucinating, and basically acting like a junkie gone cold turkey was an amazing transformation. The raw emotion that poured from him in every shot had my heart breaking, and to hear his cries, and see his struggle, I just wanted to let him out and hold him til it was over. I just wanted to protect him.

But Jensen, wow. The emotion poured from him as usual, but that last scene, him lying on the floor, broken both physically and psychologically, tore my heart out and stamped all over it. I had tears running down my face. And his feeble attempt to get up, to try and follow Sam out the door, just to have him roll back over in defeat sealed the deal. I was sobbing like I'd had my heart broken. I don't cry very often in movies, never in TV, but tonight, I did. I curled up in bed, with a teddy, and sobbed my heart out. I'm not sure if it was a whimper from Dean in the dying seconds of the episode or an echo of my own.

I couldn't help but flash back to the episodes in season 3 when Sam asked for Dean to kill him when Sam said the same thing to Bobby. We all khew he wouldn't shoot, but to see him standing there, shotgun resting against Sam's chest, I thought about Croatoan, and Playthings, Sam begging Dean in both instances to let him die, one way or another.

I can't help but feel a little like we've lost not only Sam, but Dean too. I feel a little like Sam in that Dean isn't the same as he was before he went to Hell, and really who can blame him, but I want my rough, rugged, wise cracking hero back and I want him back now. I can only hope that the boys can work it out before the end of the next episode. I don't think I can handle a break without a resolution. I'm sure we'll get one, but I can't help but think that it wont be the one we want. I have a feeling we'll be left hanging, rather like Dean at the end of last season, with out boys on different sides of the line drawn in the sand.

Thats about as coherent as I can get right now. I'm sure that I will have more fully formed thoughts once I watch it again, and pick up on the details I missed, but right now, I'm still reeling and that last few moments, the fight, Sam choking Dean, Dean not fighting back the way he should to him just giving up, to Sam's hateful words of 'You never knew me and you never will", especially when we all know that Dean knows Sam, to Dean's echo of his father's words about leaving and not coming back. It's all still swirling around in my head.

I think I will sleep tonight with the image of Dean lying on the floor on the back of my eyelidsm and if my pillow is wet before I sleep, well, the episode was just that good.

D! xoxo

Birthdays

2009-05-07T14:17:39Z

As another year starts again, I have given myself time, today, to go over everything that has happened in the past 12 months, and I've come to some realisations.

I have come to acknowledge so many things about myself over the last 12 months.

Weight loss wise, I have come to realise that, as much as I would love to be a certain weight, or a certain dress size, my fitness and health are a much bigger influence. I have realised that I feel better if I exercise than if I don't. That doesn't mean that I don't still want to lose weight. Here, on my 22nd birthday are my stats: I currently stand at 173cm (about 5 foot 7-8 inches), (not that I'll get any taller), and weight 83kg (about 182 pounds.). By my 23rd birthday, I would like to weigh no more than 70kg (about 150-155 pounds). Even better if I can get to 60-65kg (about 130-145 pounds). This past year I have lost 11kg, and gained 8 back. At the beginning of March, after a 3 month trip overseas, I was 87kg. I have lost 4kg in the 2 months since I've been back and I'm happy with that .

This month I'm just going to focus on my exercise. With an assessment due every week until exams in the middle of June, i know my eating will not be as good as it should but I'm ok with that.

I am aiming to hit the gym at least 3 times a week. 4 would be better. I'm not looking at going every day, I know that's unrealistic. I would like to do yoga every morning. It's not a full yoga routine, just a few stretches of a morning, but last year as I was doing them, I felt better. I felt stronger, more aleart, more focused, just more in general. I have 3 workout DVD's. I would like to do each one once a week. That, coupled with my gym times, will have me doing something every day, and something different every day.

I realised, as I heard the netball hooters go off on Saturday, that this is the first year in forever that I haven't played competitive sport, excepting year 12. I played tennis and was involved in swimming club and karate until I was 10, then we moved and I played in the Saturday netball comp, was involved in gymnastics, and played hockey with the high school when I got there. I was involved in the MB (girls) competitions in my first year of university, and played mixed netball for my first 2 years, as well as the gym, gym classes (pump, jam etc). Then in my last 2 years living on campus, I played with the College netball team, and was also involved in MB sports, particularly soccer, hockey, netball and touch football. I think this has affected my in terms of my sanity. I haven't had anything 'fun' to do. I work, and I do uni work, neither of which can be counted as 'fun'. They both definately feel like chores at the moment.

I went to band last night for the first time in 6 years. I picked up my flute yesterday afternoon for the first time (as in, for longer than 5 minutes) for the first time in 5 years, and I was amazed at how fast it all came back to me. I didn't even need to think about it. I had to concentrate for the first few songs to know what the really high, rarely used notes were, but I had no trouble reading the music, and my fingers just knew what to do, what keys to press, when to do it, and even my breathing worked. I just seemed to know what I was doing and I didn't realise until yesterday that I'd missed that. Not just the playing music, but the fact that it came so easily to me. I have always had an affinity with music and playing the flute always came naturally to me. I don't want to big note myself, but just as some people are born runners, or singers, or actors, I just have a connection to music I can't shake. I have always had music around, and if I don't I tend to go a little crazy. Playing with the band last night, something else seemed to click back in to place. Something seemed right in a month or more of things that just didn't seem to fit. I finally felt like a piece of me was sitting where it was supposed to. I am going to go back next week and do it again.

I saw an article in a health magazine when I was in the States and I thought it had the most brilliant 'healthy lifestyle' gage in it.The woman involved was tired of feeling like a failure when she didn't do everything perfectly every day, so she made herself a table of things to do, and ticked them off as she did it, then ranked the weeks score based on that. But, it was specific things, and it wasn't just eat well, exercise every day. I was things like, 'sleep 7 hours a night', 'exercise 30 minutes every day', 'eat 3 vegetables a day'. 'drink 2 litres of water a day'. She gave herself a star when she did something , and got a score for each week over all. The thing I liked most about it was that she commented on it as she went. Things like "Didn't get 7 hours of sleep on Monday, had presentation due on Tuesday, slept in on Sunday, evened things out," or "ate badly on Wednesday for friends birthday, but spent 7 hours overall at gym." For every bad thing, there was a reason and a balance to it. Then she gave herself a star for everything she did throughout the week, and ranked herself based on everything she had set out. 0-3 was terrible, 4-7 was good, 8-14 was great etc. I thought it was a brilliant idea, and it lets you see that even though you might have slipped and eaten a bar of chocolate, you also spent 10 hours in the gym that week, so you dont have to feel guilty about it. I loved it and I think I'm going to do that with my life in general. I am such a perfectionist about everything from eating to uni work, and this might help me put my life into perspective.

I am so behind on my uni work. I have barely read any of my readings, let alone be up to date with them, and I have something due every week until the end of semester, including exams. I really have to pull my finger out and get it done. My next assessment isn't due until the 18th of May, but I'd like it done by Wednesday if I can, so I can focus on my Moot Court submissions which are due on the 30th, then my actual Moot Court appearance is on the 26th of May, then exams start I think, from memory, 10 days later. HELP!!!! I will really have to knuckle down and get my ass in to gear and get my work done.

I am really behind in my writing too. I have started the next chapter of 'Picking Up The Pieces,' but I think I'm going to pull 'End of the World' until I can finish it. My muse has done nothing but pull it in all directions, and I'd rather pull it, then put it up again once it's finished and in one piece. I've never had a piece of writing cause so much trouble. Usually an idea hits and it just flows,like with 'Retribution and Breaking Points', or 'Another Life." We'll see how I go. I barely have time to write one story, let alone two. And I've had a few requests for another Nikki story, so I'll have to see if I have anything left for one of those at the moment.

Bed is calling my name, and my headache's back.

To the start of another year.

Have fun, life's to short to be worried, upset, or angry all the time. Remember to have some fun occassionally

Dannixo.

bubbles759 @ 2009-04-30T00:50:00

2009-04-29T14:51:39Z

Do any other oldest children feel like they are somehow inferior to their younger siblings? Do any of you feel like you are there to pave the way for them, and then they get the easy ride through life? Does anyone feel like they take a backseat to their younger siblings?

I shouldn't really complain, I know I shouldn't. I only have one sister, and I should be supportive of her, and watch out for her and all the other shit that comes with being the oldest. BUT, lately I feel as if all I am actually here for is to ease her way through life, and be the fall back guy. You know the one, the person who gets the blame when everything goes wrong, or when they feel like things aren't going their way. That, somehow, because life isn't being easy for them, it's their older siblings fault.

For example... On Saturday it was ANZAC Day in Aus (A day to remember the fallen soldiers who died in Galliopli in WWII). BUT, because my sister is the way she is, and ignoring the fact that she has 3 weeks off from uni these holidays, and she can't ever get her act together and think ahead and tell work not to roster her on on a particular day, she decides she wants to go shopping on Saturday, because she has no clothes, and she needs to, but she has to work on Sunday, and the following Sunday she's going back to the uni and she has to work on Saturday. So, an a public holiday, mum, Holly and I head to Newcastle and go shopping. Now Saturday was a public holiday, and the shopping centre didn't open til 1pm. SO we drove to Newcastle, taking with us a dress to give back to a friend of mine from Melbourne, who happened to be in Newcastly for the weekend. So, as I stood there talking to her for a minute, catching up briefly, my pain in the ass little sister was sitting in the car, complaining, about all the shops she will have missed out on shopping in. Never mind that she has no money. Well, that's not exactly true. She has money, and in fact set aside $500 for this little shopping trip, but let mum pay for it all instead. Of I had asked to do this I would have been looked at like I was crazy.

And, instead of looking at things for everyone, Holly and mum looked at stuff for her, and then walked off to the next thing. Never mind if I was still looking. It was supposed to be a shopping trip for everyone, and Holly is the only one who actually bought anything. But then, she didn't really buy it so... And, it's my birthday next week!

I'm trying not to rant and rave like a 5 year old, but I feel like nothing I ever do is good enough. I studied Psychology along with my law degree and suddenly I'm an expert and I'm supposed to stop doing what I'm doing and help her out because I've been there and she needs help. Never mind that I needed help when I did it and never got it, just had to figure it out on my own. My assignments not being handed in on time due to a fault with the University's submission thingy is of no concern to them, but my sister not getting an email back from her professor within 5 minutes is the end of the world, because, go forbid he should be teaching a res school class and not sitting glued to his computer waiting for an email from her. It's not my fault her SPSS stats program doesn't work and I don't know how to fix it. It's not my fault that she has so much shit on her computer that it is running slow.

I just feel like I'm there to clear a path for her. I was happy to let people in my college know at the end of last year that she was coming, and i'm glad that they looked after her for the first few weeks, but I feel like she hasn't really made any of her own friends, but keeps hanging out with mine. It's always 'MJ did this, or Boe said this', etc, etc. I feel like everything she does is brilliant, and everything I do is mediocre. I remeber getting a Distinction on my very first Law assignment and getting a 'good job' from mum and dad, and when Holly is getting high distinctions for her labs, they are acting like it's the best thing ever. I don't have the heart to tell her that almost everyone gets HD's on their psyc labs, and I did too. I feel like I'm going to be the terrible sister if I say "I did it first!" I fell like my parents will just look at me and say "You should be happy for your sister".

And it's not just my parents either. My Grandmother is the same. Everything is about Holly or my cousins and I feel like I'm just the spare one. I feel like an outsider in my own family. Even my dad, who was always so protective of us kids, seems to be blase about it all. So much so, that he told my mum that I should go to Sydney for the week because I felt like I was the outsider in this town. He couldn't even be bothered to tell me, and then couldn't be bothered to say anything as I left other than 'It'll be dark soon". I just feel like I don't matter any more. That my opinions don't matter, what I think or feel don't matter, and that I'm just there to make Holly's life better. To go through the hard stuff before she does and take out the prickles and the stones so she doesn't get hurt. I'm so sick of doing it!!!! Even heading to Sydney it was, 'maybe for her birthday you two can go to Sydney and you can show her around." NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!!! I don't want to show her around. I don't want to be the lawn mower to put a path in her future to follow. I don't want to spend my entire life feeling like she'd sollowing me just to out shine me in everything I do. And I mean EVERYTHING!!! I complain about work, she's got a better complaint. She does something she shouldn't, then I do it, and suddenly I'm the biggest disappointment in my parents lives.

I know that's not how they see it, but that's what it feels like. I can't even have a conversation with my mum without her joining in and giving her two cents worth, but if the situations are reversed and I butt in, then I'm the big bad wolf. Like a few weeks ago I had a semi meltdown. I realised that I have no life. I don't really know anyone in this town anymore. The kids I was friends with in high school have all since left town, or married and had kids, and the guys I'm friends with from the Uni don't live here. I don't have anything keeping me here. And then Holly butts in saying "I know how you feel, I felt that way last year.”

Ah, no you don't actually. I have NO-ONE here. My two best friends live, at the very least 4 hours away, and the other in a different state. One of them I hadn't seen for nearly 12 months due to the two of us embarking on overseas travel. Holly, at least, still had friends here from when she went to school. Take today. She went out for lunch with 2 of her friends from school and ran into another one, then went to the movies with a different one, then went out for dinner with another one still. I don't think I even know that many people in this town except for the people I work with, and I wouldn't socially go out with any of them.

But, god forbid I try to tell that to her. It's always, "Yes but when I lived at home...", and "when I moved back home..." Sorry Holl, but living in College for 4 months, and coming back home nearly every weekend, then living at home for the rest of the year doesn't count as moving out then moving back home. Me living for 4 years, minus holidays and some weekends, at College, then moving back home, is moving out, then back home, so excuse me if I see our situations as a little different.

And, somehow, it's my job to ring the computer guy to try and get the wireless networking set up, and for him to check Holly's computer for virus' and make sure her anti-virus is up to date, and to try and work out why it's running so slow. Am I a little crazy here, or does it sound like she should be the one to call about HER COMPUTER!!!

Mum is even taking Friday off work to spend at home with us, because, in her words 'Holly's been home for almost 3 weeks and she's barely seen her." She's not working any more hours than she was when I was only coming home for the holidays, and I was working practically full time, as well as her, and she didn't take time off to spend with me.

I just feel like I'm not a valued member of this family unless I'm paving the way to make Holly's life easier. And I don't want it to be like that. I'm so over feeling like this.

Ok, so rant over. Or at least for that anyway.

My life since I came back from the States isn't exactly as I pictured it. Actually, it's nothing like I pictured it. Living with my parents again for the first time in 4 years, the lack of schedule and working all hours, at a moments notice, then not working at all, all the while being behind with my uni stuff and having no motivation to get on top off it all, have made the last 2 months a little unbearable.

Wehn I came home I knew that I would be juggling work and study, alone with everything else. I was hoping that work would want to make me permanent part time, but they didn't. So, I've been working in 4 different departments. Not that I mind exactly. It's nice to have some sort of variety, but it means that if I want time off, then I have to talk to 4 different departments, then hope that they remember. Then, the department managers don't talk to each other, so I've been getting phone calls asking if I can work in one department when I'm already rostered for another one. Or, i've been doing a few hours in one department, then changing to work in another department. Sometime, I only just make the compulsory 10 hour break before I have to go in for my next shift. Although, I think they've realised that I'm a little expensive now, in terms of pay, so I haven't even been getting any shifts. My bank balance doesn't look too good at the moment.

I have discovered, since coming home, that I'm a very stereotypical Taurean in one particular way. I like a routine. It diesn't have to be a fixed, set in stone routine of this is what I'm doing at this time on this particular day. Rather, I'd like it to be, I work these hours on thes days and then I have these other hours on these days to do uni work, ot go to the gym or just relax. I'm finding it hard to get the study in becuase I'm working (or at least when I am working), all hours of the day in random order.

With hours that are always changing, how can I come up with a routine or evn the skeleton of a routine? Especially when I think I have the day to myself, and the phone rings for me to go in to work, or I think I have to work in the afternoon so I don't do anything, only for work to call in and tell me that for one reason or another I don't have to work. Then my whole day is wasted.

On the positive, the deli department manager has quit. I'm not exactly sorry to see her go after the way she spoke to me. We've had a few run-ins. Basically she was a bitch. She was rude, cruel, completely unprofessional, not to mention selfish and completely incompetent at her job.

I've got a headach I just can't seem to shake either. It started a few weeks ago and I thought it was just a headache, but after a few pain pills, and an early night, it turned into a migrane. I felt so bad I thought I might have neen sick. I couldn't sleep because every little movement sent waves of pain around my skull, every little bit of sound was like a jackhammer, and every little tiny bit of light was like knives behind my eyes. Good thing I can see in the dark so I didn't need any lights to nake it to the bathroom where I just wanted to curl up on the cold tiles and cry until I wore myself out. I finally finally managed to get to sleep at about 3am, after some more pain killers, an ice pack on my forehead and my hot wheat bear under my neck. Then had to go to work the next day. It's still there and I just canm't seem to shake it. It's dialed back over the last few weeks, and I can usually ignore it, but tonight it's back to throbbing. I made a doctors appointment the day after it happened byt I can't get in until the 11th of May. That's 5 weeks between making an appointment and actually getting in. However, it kinda works well because I need to get a prescriptioon renewed and I've made a list of things I want to talk to her about, including why my knees and ankles are aching so much now. I know they said it's just because I don't walk on my feet properly, but there has to be a better explanation. I was 11 when I went last time, and I've stopped growing, or at least I think I have, I'm almost 22, so there should be something they can do now. At least I got stronger pain pills this time. Gotta love the codine with the ibuprofin.

I finally joined the gym a few weeks ago and I've pretty much fulfilled my promise of going at least 3 times a week. It's expensive to join a gym. As I get back into my gym routine I'll go more. Probably every second day. My gym visits have shown me just how much my fitness level has dropped since I finished up at the uni at the end of last year. It's not really fair but I'll just have to work on it a little more. Even over the last few weeks I've noticed my fitness level has lifted. Not so much my endurance level, but definately my fitness level. My recovery time is quite small. I can run for 2 minutes before I feel like my legs will fall off (when I really puch myself, longer when I don't) but I need less than a minute before I'm ready to go again.

I'm going to get back into doing yoga of a morning. I'd like to get it in of a morning, but I'm not a morning person, so I'll be realistic and say that if I can get it in during the day at some point I'll be happy. My flexibility has dropped quite a bit since I stopped doing it.

I have bought a dance DVD and a pilates DVD, so I now have no excuse, except that Holly's home, to do something every day. If I can do yoga every day, the gym 3 times a week at least, maybe even every second day, and the other DVD's (I have 3 now) on the day's I'm not at the gym, then I have no excuse not to lose weight. That'll give me something strenuous to do 6 days a week and a rest day. Now I just have to stop the driving need to eat everything that's in sight. I'm not sure why but lately I'm always starving. That's something I'm going to brin gup with the doctor when I see her in 2 weeks.

Am sort of back into my supernatural writing. I posted another chapter of Picking up the Pieces today, and am working on another chapter of At the End of the World. Neither story has turned out the way I had planned but that's ok, just going with the flow at the moment. I have had another request to write a new Nikki story, so I'll have to see if the muse has a storyline for that series tucked away somewhere. Supernatural starts on Monday night here and I can't wait. Ok, so I'm up to date with where the States is, but still, seeing the boys on the big screen is so much better than on my laptop. Excited hehe

I'm sorry I missed the convention a few weekends ago. I've seen some videos of it and really wish I could have been there. I just didn't have the money even though I was in teh same city as them. If I'd have known about it earlier I'd have asked for mum and dad and Holly to pool their money and get me a ticket to both days. Maybe if they come back next year. But I highly doubt that they will but a girl can hope can't she?

Gotta head to bed. I've got a Corporation Law essay/problem question to write. How I long for this to be over. But then I don't even know what I want to do at the end of it. I'm thinking of studying nutrition and finishing my psych degree and going into eating disorders. What do you think???

Nighty night.

Edit: If anyone needs a reason to get a cat, I have a very good one. I have always, always had a cat, up until we had her put down almost 3 years ago. And tonight, for the first time in 22 years, we have a mouse in our house. And it's decided to take up residence in MY ROOM! Now, while I don't dislike mice, I don't particularly want it sleeping in my room. And, if it is eating or crapping on my framed Tiger in the Wild photo that my sister bought for me for my 18th birthday it wont have to worry that mum may bring a cat or a mouse trap home with he r tomorrow because I'll break it's scrawny little neck myself. I can hear it, but I can't find it and it's a little unnerving having a little brown thing smaller in length than my hand and fingers (including tail) running around in my room somewhere and not being able to find it.

Life, and things like it

2009-03-28T12:48:05Z

I can't believe that it's been 11 weeks since I've updates this journal. So much has happened in the weeks between.

I'm back in Aussie land, and grateful for it. Don't get me wrong, I loved my time in the States, and I wouldn't give it up for anything but there's just something about being back home. There really isn't anything in the world like flying into Sydney at sunrise and seeing the harbour, the Bridge and the Opera House lit up in the all their glory. There is nothing like barbeques of a night with family and friends, the smell of the gum trees and the sounds of the birds (although I think dad's going to kill the cocky's). There's nothing like the sunset across the green lands around home, and the fresh smell that only comes from the early autum days before the chill sets in. I am going to enjoy the last few weeks of the sunshine and hot days before the cold sets back in.

I had an absolute ball in the USA, and learnt so much about myself, changed so much about myself. I have come back a more confident, self assured, independent person, and change doesn't scare me as much as it used to.

I think that the time overseas, away from everyone and everything familiar made me reassess my priorities and what I want from life. It made me realise that I am only 21 and that, if I don't know right now what I want to do with my life, then that's not the end of the world. The seas aren't going to bubble, the sky isn't going to fall. If I want to spend 12 months or 2 years travelling around the world, then that's ok. I don't have to know, at 21, or even 22, what I want to do for the rest of my life, and even if I did, that I'm probably not going ot have that piece of mind for long before I change my mind again anyway.

I really have no clue what I want to do career wise. I only know that I don't want to work in a law firm, settling cases I don't believe in and doing property, wills and divorces for the rest of my life. I want to help people, and i know, realistically, that it can't happen in a law firm. Law, at this present moment in time, is still very much a male dominated world, where legislation from 50 years ago still reigns, and if it doesn't then it still has a bearing on wha tlegislatin is still around. I was watching Law and Order the other night, and was absolutely appalled that, a woman who killed her husband 30 years ago, who had been abusing her, would be charged with murder. I can't believe that the legislation in the US for battered women's syndrome and self defence in these cases only came in in 1984. I would be born 3 years later.

I find it appalling that, in the western society we live in, many men and boys still think it's ok to abuse and rape women if they were 'asking for it', or they show to much skin, or basically, if the men feel like they deserve to. I feel like the world is going crazy. I feel like the world is going backwards and not in a good way.

I think I'd like to work with my psychology degree and maybe get a nutrition degree and use it to work with people with eating disorders, both those who are underweight, but those who are overweight as well. As someone who is overweight herself at the moment (and trying to lose it) I understand the patterns of thinking with both sets of eating disorders. I would really like to help people and I think this is a way I can do it. I would also like to get a personal training certification and maybe use that as well. I don't think that I can be stuck in an office all day. I think that being in a work place where I could go out and ski or snowboard after I had finished and on my days off have left me feeling unfulfilled when I spend a day inside 4 walls and achieve nothing.

I really need a routine. I never realised until now, just how much of a stereotypical Taurean I am. I need routine, or I fall over. I need some sort of structure in my life. I like flexible structure, but structure just the same. Maybe that's why I have a perchance for to do lists. Maybe that's why, at the beginning of the day I write out a list of things for me to do. I hate the way that I'm casual at work because I don't have a schedule. My hours change day to day, week to week, and it's killing me. Like this week: I worked Thursday 5am-2pm in the bakehouse, then Friday 10am-6pm in the Deli, then Sat 4pm-8pm in Perishables, then tomorrow (Sun) 5am-who knows when in the bakehouse again. Now I don't mind being the go to girl, and the jack of all trades, but I need time to do my uni work, and with everyone calling me nearly every day, even if I say no to work, I am still not getting anything done because of the interruptions.

I must get back into an eating and exercise regime, but with my work hours it's hard to do. I'm not trying to make excuses because I know my eating hasn't been freat and I haven't been exercising the way I should. I went to the gym on Wednesday, but that is the first time this year, and I went for a run/walk on Monday night but again, the first time in what feels like forever. I don't count the dancing around the lounge room as exercise because it's not consistent enough. And I don't know why, other than time, I don't go more often. I feel so much better when I have done something. I did bye 2 workout dvd's and I'm trying to find my sister's yoga book so I will have no excuse not to do stuff at home because it's too hot (and that's a legitimate excuse when it's 35+ degrees (90-95) outside at 4pm.) I can't remember what DVD's I laybuyed but if there isn't a yoga one I might have to go buy one. I don't think I'm going to get to yoga of an afternoon (tuesday and thursday) as much as I would like to so a DVD will just have to suffice.

I really need to get back into the uni work as well. I really haven't done anything and I don't really have an excuse either. I use work as one, but really, I'm just not motivated enough. I have barely looked at my Juris stuff, done my one assignment for Moot, and even that was a shoddy effort, and not even looked at my Corp stuff. This week will be purely uni work. I don't work til middayThursday, and I will spend this week doing my uni work. I have a weekend of graduation and Nat will be here Thursday night, so I must get stuff done before this weekend.

I have started writing again. I have posted 4 chapters of 'Picking Up the Pieces' and have finished the outline for it. I have also started a new one called 'Lessons and Healing' and I have almost finished the outline for that one too. It's not often that I have 2 stories on the go, but this time I just couldn't help it. I have the muse back in working order, and she won't leave me alone. I seem to just be having idea after idea and I have to get them down before they leave me again. And with the storylines this season I just can't help it... I have to write,

I have never before really felt the need to comment on a Supernatural episode. Don't get me wrong, there are times I've laughed and times I've cried, and times I've yelled at the TV when 'to be continued' flashes across it just when I want to know what happens next, but never before have I had episodes that have evoked such fellings as the ones this season. Last week's episode almost ripped my heart out, along with Dean's when we were told that he was the first seal to break. And that, because of that, he has no choice, he has to stop it. Dean's confession of 'I guess I'm not the man either of our dad's wanted us to be' almost broke my heart. But thne, this week, to hear Zachariah tell Dean that, not only can he do it, but he will, and so much more let Dean believe what we all knew anyway. He IS strong enough to do this, and he WILL do this. But to hear that hunting is in his blood, more than what his father gave him, that he;d find his way to it no matter what, I think gave Dean a sense of purpose, and I think he needs that. I really can't wait to see what the rest of the season is like and how the finale plays out. Will our boys be on the same side or not???

I am going to try to update here at least once a week, or at least once a fortnight. I feel alot better when I get this stuff off my chest, and even if it's here, it's better than keeping it to myself. I'm even thinking of posting some of my supernatural stories on here.

I must go to bed, but before I do (with a 5am wakeup call otherwise known as an alarm clock, and shouldn't it be illegal to make people get out of bed that early on a Sunday!!!), the ever present weekly to do list:

1. Be up to date with my Jurisprudence readings
2. Be up to date with my Corporation readings
3. Be up to date with my Corp lectures
4. Be up to date with my Moot readings
5. Be up to date with my Moot lectures
6. Print all my lecture slides out.

Now that looks like a pretty formidable list, but if I can get the lectures out of the way at least then I will feel like I have achieved something, and they shouldn't take me any more than 2 full days to do. Then I can start on the readings.

Nighty night.

New Year, Resolutions and Realisations

2009-01-06T04:10:00Z

I know this is a bit late, but I'd like to wish everyone a safe, happy, healthy and prosperous new year and as I look back over 2008, I have come to the realisation that this past year has been a significant learning curve in almost every aspect of my life.

I decided that, instead of making new years resolutions for this year, and breaking them (as I do every year) and then feel bad about it later, I was going to reflect on the previous year, and see what it is that I've learned and what areas of my life I could improve on. Of course I have the usual new years goals; lose weight, save money etc etc, but this year will be different.

Over this past year, my life has changed dramatically. Ok, so maybe not my life per se, but the way that I look at my life, and the way I look at the world around me and my place in it. I have met so many different people from so many walks of life that I have realised things about myself I never knew.

I leaned this year that I am too kind, and need to be more selfish. I have spent so much of this past year trying to live up to everyone else's expectations, and do what they need me to do, or want me to do, that I have had barely any time to myself and in doing so I have let myself slip to the bottom of the list time and time again, and in the process have forgotten what I actually want, and need.

I found myself wondering many times this year what it is that I want to do, and does it meet what is expected of
me. I have found myself giving too many pieces of myself to too many people at once, and leaving nothing left for me. I have found myself so tired and run down so many times this year, that sometimes I was running on pure will to get through the day and do everything that was on my ever growing to do list. My priorities were what everyone told me they should be; uni assignments and exams, work, organising everything for everyone. Suddenly when I was doing that, I wasn't taking care of myself. I was no longer listening to my music with any passion, it was just noise in the background to stop my brain from wandering. I was no longer watching what I ate, or exercising as I used to, and that left me feeling run down and sluggish. I was no longer writing, and when I was it wasn't really because I wanted to, or had a great idea, but it was because I felt like I should be doing it. I was writing what came to me, but nothing really felt like it stuck. Maybe one or 2 stories, and they were at the end of the year, as I was coming to these conclusions.

This year, my resolution is simple; put myself first. Take care of myself, mind, body and spirit. It is amazing how much better you work when you take care of even just one aspect. When one thing works, the rest just falls into place.

This year I am going to take time for myself. This can be anything; reading something that isn't uni related, playing my music, listening to my music, writing, or even just going for a run. I will try to get an hour a day of something for myself. It doesn't matter whether it is first thing in the morning, last thing at night before I go to bed, or in the middle of the day as a study break.

I am also going to be doing things for me, not just for someone else. I am no longer going to bite my tongue and be nice because that's what society expects from me. I am going to speak up when something pisses me off, and I am going to hold my ground when I know I am right, rather than back down in front of authority, or someone that is a little intimidating. That is not how I was raised, and it's not the person I want to be. I am a strong person who has always stood up for what she believes in. I am not afraid of a fight, and I fiercely protect what is mine, especially my friends and family. I don't like that, over this past year I have been bending to society's expectations and backing down when I know in my core that I should be standing up, facing whatever is standing in my way, head on.

I am going to take care of myself. Over this last year I have lost about 10kg (22 lbs), and this year I would like to
lose that again, if not 15kg. This will put me back into the weight range that I would be happy with, and then I can go from there. I'm not setting myself some obnoxiously outrageous weight loss goal. I'm not saying that I would like to be 55kg because I know that is just not physically possible for me to be that size and look healthy. I know that 65-70 kg is a reasonable and attainable weight goal for me, and that I will not look anorexic when I am that size. I can reevaluate when I get to 70kg.

I am going to do this by eating properly and taking care of myself. I will eat properly (made easier by the fact that I will be living at home this year) and I will aim to exercise for at least and hour 3-4 times a week. I would love to do it everyday but I know that it is just not realistic. I am going to join Tai Kwon Do at home, and I can't wait. I do really miss my martial arts, and I didn't realise just how much until I got into body combat at uni. I would love to join the gym too, but really only going to do that if they offer the Les Mills classes and I can take Body Combat and Body Pump. I would also really like to join the pool, seeing as we have a heated pool, there is no excuse to me not using it. If I do all of that then I can see no reason why I wouldn't lose at least 10kg by this time next year.

I am going to save my money. If I am working 2 jobs, this really shouldn't be a problem, and with no one living at home to go out with, I wont be spending my money on drinks and going out. I should really only be spending my money on car insurance, petrol, and a few little things for me. I will not be spending up a storm, going shopping for anything that takes my fancy. I am going to allow myself to buy things that I need, and one big this every season. That big thing could be a really expensive coat, or a dress, a pair of boots or new swimmers for summer. But until I get closer to my goal weight I don't really want to be wasting money on getting new clothes, and I already have quite a few.

I would love to pull distinctions in my uni classes this year, but I know that is setting the bar a little too high. I am aiming for a credit in my classes, and as long as I pass I will be happy. I really don't want to fail anything. This America trip, even though I have only been here for 5 weeks, has really made me reevaluate. I don't feel the unexplainable need to finish at the end of this year and graduate in March. I know that it would be amazing to graduate with all my friends whom I have gone through these last 4 years with, but I also know that if I take an extra 6-12 months, it's not that big a deal. It really doesn't matter when I graduate, or that I don't graduate at the top of my class with straight HD's and Class 1 honours. It just matters that I graduate. And it doesn't matter if I don't know what I want to do right now. I still have at least 1 year left, and I'll just apply for grad positions and College of Law, and then decide from there. I may still change my mind in the next 12 months, on what it is I want to do.

I would love to head to Canada and do what I am doing now at Whistler next year. I would love to follow that up with the summer camp in the USA. I would love to doa working holiday through the UK and Europe. I would love to see Ireland. I really want to see Europe. I have realised that, as small as the world seems, there is so much to see and do, and really, society's expectations aren't the most important thing. What I think, and believe, and want to do, and actually do, are the most important things. As long as my family and friends are there, by my side, believing in me, respecting me, and are a part of me, then things are ok.

I have even come to the conclusion over the last week or so, that blood family isn't even the most important thing. I always used to believe that your blood family is the most important thing in the world, and with what happened to Shane just reinforced that. But then, lately, after all the Shane stuff died down, I realised that even blood family isn't as important as the family you choose to have, whether they be family by blood, marriage or just friends that have become your family. After discussions with my grandmother about my immediate family at christmas, and her comment that they probably shouldn't have come at all and she really wouldn't have cared either way, my thoughts on family were thrown into a new light. I knew that she has become more accepting of the Coopers and less accepting of us, but really, how can you say that you wouldn't have really cared if your own daughter, son in law and granddaughter didn't show up for christmas?! Considering that we always stay at Gran's place, why is it such a big deal that mum and dad and Holly stayed at Aunty Ann's place for one year. And they only did it because Kate decided that they would stay at Gran's place for Christmas, even though they have never done it before, and only live a half an hour away from Gran. I just don't get how she doesn't see through them. I mean, they bought a dog, the same as Grans, from the same person, just the next litter. Like that isn't copying. And they always ask Gran what she is up to, and Kate calls her 3-4 times a day, more when she knows that one of us is there, or that she is over at out place.

And I am so over every conversation with Gran being about Shane to one extent or another. I don't want to hear about it. I don't need to know that he is there again, or that he is such a good boy because he mows her lawn, or that he is doing so well and landing on his feet. I am so over him in general. He is 24! I admit that he had a rough time with the b!tch, and that she really did put him through the ringer. But, at the same time we did tell him that she was no good for him and he went back at least 3 times. I mean, was he dropped on his head as a baby?! How many times did she need to screw him over before he realised what she was doing? Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that he has gotten over her, and through all the crap, but this year I'm not putting up with it. I so not want to hear that he is at Gran's, again, when he should be out making friends, or at least having a few drinks with his workmates. I will not put up with stupid conversations and I will tell him something no more than 3 times. If he doesn't listen to me, then bad luck. I am putting myself first, and that includes ridding myself of anything negative in my life. And if that means that I have to cut back my interactions with some of my family members then so be it. I will not completely cut them out, that is too big a step, but I will lessen my contact with them.

Hopefully, if I can stick to these plans, even if I don't follow them exactly, but use them as guidelines, I will be in a better position this time next year, than I am now. And I'll hopefully have a better year.

USA

2008-12-03T03:02:34Z

I made it! I'm in San Fransicso!
I flew into San Fran on Sunday, and I'm still getting my days, times and dates mixed up. I keep ending up on the opposite side of the road when I try to get the cable cars too. Everything is backwards, but I'm slowly getting used to it. It is a nice city, and I can see why people fall in love with it, but I'm not quite there yet.

I've been to Fisherman's Wharf, and through Union Square, and had quite a few rides on the cable cars which is a little odd. It's strange being on the outside of the car, and they just stop in the middle of the intersections. It's wierd to see the cars coming toward you when you are sitting on the outside of the cable cars.

Rory arrived yesterday, and we spent yesterday wandering around Fisherman's Wharf. Rory and I had pizza for dinner last night, and I find it really amusing that you can buy alcohol from corner stores. We went into the Westfield last night, and the escalators are backwards too. Rory and I kept ending up on the wrong side to go up or down, but we eventually figured it out. We had Starbucks last night before we had dinner and it felt like we were in a movie. It was really surreal. I have found that Americans are really loud too.

We wanted to do an Alcatraz tour today, but we went to the bank and set up bank accounts. We must have gotten the slowest lady there, because it took her nearly an hour to open up one bank account for each of us.

Heading to South Lake Tahoe tomorrow. The train leaves at 7.10am, so we have to be out of the hotel by about 6.30 so we have plenty of time to get the tickets and get our luggage onto the bus. We head to Sacramento, and I really want to see it. It's too bad that we only stop long enough to trade the train for a bus, but I'd like to see it if I have time later.

I've taken a fair few photos, but my night ones seem to be really blury, so I'm going to copy some of Rory's. It's been pretty warm here, but yesterday it was overcast and a little cool. It's funny because the city is a little slow during the day, but everyone comes out at night.

I haven't bought any San Fran souverniers yet, but I'll buy them when I come back before I fly out. I don't want to buy anything before I head to Tahoe because I wont be able to carry it.

We saw the City Hall today on the way to the bank and it's huge. I can't understand why everything is is tipped in gold though. I got a few photos, but I couldn't get the whole building in one photo, so I have about 3 or 4 photos that if you put them together, make the whole building.
Have fun

Detox: Day One

2008-10-24T13:51:44Z

Well, I started it. Finally, started the detox that I've been going to do weeks ago.
Day one of my detox, and I have realised that I will be living as a vegan for the next 2 weeks. That's ok, I can handle that. It doesn't really faze me too much, but hopefully it can get me back into the swing of things and I can lose a few more kilos before I head off to the States. Feeling ok tonight. Have a slight headache, but that might be from looking at the computer, and papers for too long. Am a little tired too, but that's not surprising. I've been tired a fair bit lately.
So, this detox promises dropping a little bit of weight, losing the bloating, shiny hair, healthy skin, lots of energy. The losing weight isn't why I did it, but if I do, great. Haven't been very good with the exercise this week. Have done practically nothing. The weather has been atrocious, and I've jsut been lazy. Tomorrow I am going to get off my arse and go for a run/jog/walk.
Have started a new Supernatural story. i know I need to finish 'Mistakes' and it's almost there, but the muse kinda came ot me, and I really couldn't ignore it. I already have 2 chapters ready to post, and am working on the third. It's darker than anything I have ever written before, and I kinda like it.
I finally feel like my feet are back on the ground and I'm not spinning out of control at the moment. Maybe the muse was just awiting for me ot settle down before it could get me to listen to it. I've felt kind of lost without any artistic influence in my life. Even my music wasn't cutting it, and I love my music. God know's I have enough of it.
I need to knuckle down and get through some uni work tomorrow. I've been putting it off, and putting it off, and then suddenly it's 2 weeks out from exams, and I realise how far behind in my readings I am.
I have to book accommodation in San Francisco. I haven't done it yet, and if I don't book soon, I probably wont get get anything. Spoke, ok, facbooked, a guy that's working at Sierra with me, and he's already over there, so he's looking at accommodation over there. It looks like it might be 4 or 5 of us living in a house. We've found a few that are fully furnished, and it works out to be close to $100 per person per week. So it's not too bad. I can handle that. I'd prefer something cheaper, but I doubt that's going to happen unless we use the rooms as doubles. Not sure, still waiting on Robb to email me back.
So, tomorrow's to do list:
* Run
* Yoga
* Finish family readings wk 8-11.
***If all of that gets done then:
* Read ADR assignment notes, and highlight important stuff.
* Read property readings topics 4+5
It sounds like alot, and it kinda is, but it has to be done. Exams start in 2 weeks!!!! ARGH! Scary stuff.
Check back in tomorrow.

Why does everything happen at once?

2008-10-10T12:47:32Z

I'm so stuck! Why does everything have to happen at once?! Why can't I just have one week with nothing urgent to attend to so I can sort out all the noise and complete mess that is in my head?

I know that's how life works but right now I can't handle it! I was always the one who knew exactly what I wanted to do, where I was heading and how I was going to get there. It was all planned out in minute details and technicolour pictures. So what happened? Why is it that I suddenly don't really want any of what I had planned? Why do I suddenly have the urge to throw away everythinng that I've worked towards for the last few years and run as fast as I can in the opposite direction?

I had a major mental breakdown last week. And I know, a mental breakdown is supposed to be good for a girl. I think when I get back to uni next week, I'm going to lock myself in my room for practically the whole week, cry myself out, get it all out of my system, and then start again. Then I can take a good look at myself, and decide what I want to do, who I want to be, how I'm going to get there, and just work out what I want. It was kinda a big surprise, even to me, that I no longer want to study law. I don't know why it came as a big surprise, I haven't really been interested in my uni work for a few months now, but it did. It suddenly hit me that I can't see myself walking into an office everyday, working for some law firm in the city, covering cases I have no interest in. I can't see myself in a little country town, like I'm currently in, covering small time crime and property settlement, maybe a few insurance cases and some wills. I just can't see myself doing it. And I don't want to do it.

I'm just letting everything get to me, and usually I don't, usually I just ignore it, and go on with my life, but I can't right now.

I'm trying to get over the fact that, while I'm supposed to be Rebecca's Maid of Honour tomorrow at her wedding, I'm not giving a speech at the reception, I'm not there now and didn't help her set up or anything because Bec has to be the diplomatic one and spread everything evenly, so Vanessa is the one giving the speech because I got the 'title' of 'maid of honour' so really, all I get to do tomorrow is hold her flowers. I haven't seen anything. I have seen her dress and that's it. I haven't seen the flowers, the place where the reception is being held, or anything. I'm really not impressed that I'm not there tonight, because, even though I had been organised and booked accommodation for tomorrow night, Vanessa and Kylie hadn't so they decided that they needed to turn up yesterday, or Wednesday, I can't remember which one, and so they got my spot at the cabin, where I was supposed to go and spend some time with Bec before tomorrow. I hate that there has been no communication. I don't even know where I'm supposed to go to to get my hair done. All Bec said to me was to call her when I get to Mudgee. I hate being unorganised, and left in the dark, especially about things as important as this. And I know that it's her big day, not mine, but as one of her bridesmaids, I'd like to be informed of these things.

I haven't really even been exercising or eating well. I haven't had time. It's been very exhausting being me over the last few weeks, with working, and uni work, and trips to Sydney, and trips to uni, and trips back home for the wedding tomorrow (which is in Mudgee). Then I have to turn around on Sunday and head to Sydney, again, for a 2 hour meeting, to turn around and catch the train back to Newcastle, where my parents are going to pick me up, then on Monday I have to turn around and drive back to Uni. I tried on a dress today. It was really pretty and I thought I'd buy it as a reward for me losing 10kg. But I bought a large and though that it would fit, because the medium wouldn't zip up around my ribs. BUT THE LARGE DOESN'T FIT EITHER!!!! I really like the dress, but I don't want to have to get an XL! It was such a blow to my self esteem. I'm going to ask Deb for my books back, and I think I'm going to start the detox. I'm going to try to run at least 6 days a week, maybe get in a pilates day or 2, maybe go for a swim 3 days a week. Yoga every moring. I know that sounds like alot, but it was a BIG blow to my confidence. And considering that 2 of the bridesmaids tomorrow are the equivalent of a size 0, my head really isn't in the right place.

I am so far behind in my uni work. As of Sunday I have a plan. I am going to read my ADR book on the train on the way home. It's about a 3 hour trip, so hopefully I can get some reading done. I don't have an exam for it, so I don't have to have notes for it. Just understand it enough for the assignment that is due at the end of the month. Then on Monday I am going to finish my Civil assignment and hand it in. It will be 3 days late but I don't really care. As long as it's handed in. Then I shall start my ADR assignment on Tuesday and get it mainly done. At the very least I shall read the articles and the cases so I can start it. Then on Wednesday I shall finish the readings for ADR (at least the textbook ones) and start the ones for my property class. I'm almost up to date for that so I'd like to get that one over and done with, and up to date as soon as I can. Then on Thursday I shall start on my Family readings. Hopefully get that pretty up to date too. I think that I'm nearly up to date on that too. Then on Friday I can start my Civil readings. That's the class I'm the last up to date on. It's such a boring class that it really doesn't keep my attention. But it has to be done, so I hereby devote Friday to Civil readings. Then on Saturday I shall get up to date with my ADR lectures. I am so far up to lecture 3, need to get up to lecture 8. So that's about 8 hours worth of lectures to listen to. Then on Sunday I shall listen to my property lectures. They are in the same boat as ADR. But, because they are both 2 hour long classes, and the only lectures for the class, they are easier to listen to, and look my productive being swiped off my to do list, therefore lessening the stressing. Hopefully by then, the only class I'll have to get up to date with the lectures is Family. But if I'm up to date with the readings, it should be ok.

So, new plan:

Satuday: 5.00am: get up, have shower, make sure I do all the girly things like shave my legs. Drive to Mudgee and meet up with Bec by 8.30am, so we can start to do hair and make-up. Bec's wedding is at 3.30pm, then the reception. DON'T DRINK TOO MUCH. Have a good time, head to bed at a reasonable time.
Sunday: Up at about 7am. Shower, breakfast, then in the car to head to Sydney. Be at UTS by 11.30-12pm latest for pre-departure meeting for the US. Catch train from Central at around 4pm. Read ADR textbook on the 3 hour train trip back to Newcastle. Drive home.
Monday: Drive up to uni (early), hopefully be there by about 11. Write Civil affitdavit assignment. If time, go for a run.
Tuesday: Go to library and print off cases and articles for second ADR assignment. READ THEM!!!!!! Come up with outline for the assignment, if not writing assignment to proof read stage. Borrow ADR books. Go for a run.
Wednesday: Finish ADR readings. Go for a run.
Thursday: Family readings. Go for a run.
Friday: Civil readings. Go for a run.
Saturday: ADR lectures. Go for a run.
Sunday: Property readings. Go for a run.

Once this weekend is over, things can settle down a little, and I can organise my accommodation in Sam Fran, then I can email Tori about accommodation in Tahoe. Once that's sorted then all I have to concentrate on is my exams. I can do that. I'm just not sure that I can make it through until then.

Wish me luck